


Crucible

by Yrde



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Creature Inheritance, Drama, F/F, F/M, Horror, M/M, Magical Inheritance, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-23 16:25:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 64,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12511456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yrde/pseuds/Yrde
Summary: Something is happening in the world that wil spell disaster for all, muggles, magical folk and anyone in between. No one is safe, nothing will survive.Harry thinks navigating the quagmire og secrets, manipulation, new friends, romance, the ministry being idiots and Voldemort is going to be the death of him. They all learn that it is the least of their problems.AU from GOF.This is a long fic, spaning a few years and not always be Harry-centric. Some plot lines are fast, others takes time. There will also be gay, lesbian and straight relationships, some have been determined and some that haven't been decided yet (I am open for sugestions). Males being pregnant is possible as with females impregnating another female. Swearing, blood, gore, adult themes and sexual situations will happen.It is un-betaed, so I'll be happy for any gramatical errors that's pointed out. I'm not British nor is English my native tounge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN; This is AU and thus most, if not all, characters will be out of character. Just not too badly I hope. I also know there will be some bashing of characters and some that might at first seem like it but will turn out well in the end. I will post warnings on chapters where there are actual bashing.  
> Cross posted at FanFiction dot net.  
> Standard disclaimer, I don't own anything about Harry Potter, JK Rowling and her affiliates does. I make no money of this and this is merely me playing with her creation.

 

Tall, towering, the spires of the keep glinted bluish white in the brilliant midday sun. The fortress stood tall, built out of the mountain, crowning the peak. White pennants snapped in the cold wind, pale blue wings facing upwards with a golden sword pointing downwards between each wing. The sentries on the battlements carried tall glaives, their faces obscured by the deep, white hoods of their sleeveless surcotes. No heraldry decorated their chest, there was no need.

 

In the centre of the courtyard stood a delicate octagonal gazebo made out of luminous blue crystal, white gauze curtains moving with the winds. Outside of four of the eight sides a pillar of the same luminous crystal stood ten feet tall. A lump of white gauze lay in the middle of the gazebo, untouched by the icy winds that played with the curtains. Tendrils of dark red seeped out from under the white cloth, as veins from a heart, four large ones towards the pillars, splitting into smaller ones and massing around the base of each one of them, growing into them. Four smaller tendrils moved out towards the empty sides, two burrowing into the earth, two picked up by the winds, their branching tendrils floating aimlessly. The dark red tendrils pulsated unsynchronised from each other.

 

A sudden shiver ran through all eight tendrils, disturbing their rhythm, making the lump quiver, a dying leaf in the wind.

“Awaken.” The word was spoken with no voice, yet all the voices ever heard. “Four and four.” The pillars flicked for a moment before they stabilised. “Awaken.”

 

§§§

 

The cracks in the roof paint had spread. It used to be only a few at the corner by the door to his room, but somehow they had spread outwards towards the middle of the roof. Harry huffed, the roof was probably leaking again. He didn't quite know why he was awake, one moment he was asleep, the next he was contemplating the possibility of a leaky roof.

A tapping on his bedroom window had him sitting up, he had fallen asleep in his dirty clothes, his glasses slightly askew. The owl on the other side of the glass wasn't familiar, it was nondescript, it's feathers a brownish grey and completely average in size. Frowning, Harry got up and reached over his desk to open the window, letting the owl in. It dropped a package on the desk before turning and leaving, Hedwig ruffling her feathers in indignation. Harry took a close look at the wax seal holding the string together, he didn't recognise the image, but it read Archer – Broughton – Davies. He had no idea who it was from or what it could be, he didn't have any opportunity to owl order anything, since Hedwig were locked up in her cage, a punishment for waking the Dursleys with his nightmares. Distrustful of the unknown package and wishing he could write Sirius and ask about the image and the names, Harry sat down on his bed again. He wasn't about to touch anything that he didn't know where came from, he wouldn't put it passed Voldemort to try and get to him through his mail. Even if the rest of the wizarding world didn't know he was back, due to Fudge sticking his head in the sand, he knew differently and he had enough experience with seemingly innocent things being exactly the opposite.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the thought of Cedric and the Tri-wizard cup away, he didn't want to fall into that pit of guilt again, or more than he had to. It was enough to relive it every night. Although, he mused, he hadn't dreamt of the cemetery or Cedric this night. Maybe it was starting to fade, or a sign he was starting to let go of the guilt. But considering his luck, this was just a fluke.

 

A rap on the door and the sound of the locks being opened, alerted him to the fact that it was seven o'clock and he had ten minutes in the bathroom before he was to start breakfast for the household pigs and make tea for the ever dieting female. Sighing he hurried to the bathroom to take a cold shower and use the loo, brushing his teeth in the shower to save time.

 

“Boy!” Uncle Vernon barked as he lowered his morning newspaper so he could glower at Harry. “We will be driving to visit Marge and won't be home until late this evening. You got half an hour to get out of the house and I will not have you loitering around the property in the meanwhile. I don't care where you go, but you will not be seen by the neighbours.” He shook a sausage thick finger vigorously at Harry, his three chins wobbling with the motion. “You got that, Boy?”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon.” Harry sighed. Getting to be on his own for the day wasn't so bad, they could have stuck him with a chore list longer than he was tall, although then he would have been able to steal some food out of the fridge or cupboards. Now he would go hungry all day.

Quickly he finished the last of his toast and rinsed his plate and glass before putting it in the dishwasher. Aunt Petunia had gotten it sometime during his last year at Hogwarts, she was probably fed up with doing the dishes her self, and it was a luxury she could boast about. Harry hurried upstairs to snatch a book, it didn't much matter what kind it was, it would be something to pass time with and all his school books was locked up in his trunk in the cupboard under the stairs.

 

Five minutes later he was strolling away from number four, Privet Drive, aiming for a playground park some ten minutes away. He had grabbed the thickest book in the bookshelf, it was filled by books Dudley had been given, but never read, the book was the size of his thickest textbooks. The day was promising to be just as hot as the previous days had been, the sun high and not a cloud in sight and Harry hoped that some of the benches were in the shade.

 

As it turned out, none of the benches were currently in any kind of shade, so he sat down under a tree, his back against the trunk. The book in his hands were light grey with blue writing on the front and a small, green planet with two sets of rings.

“The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?” Harry was surprised, how had such a title managed to stay in the Dursley's household? He had no idea what the book was about, but he could very well imagine Vernon or Petunia disliking it based on the title alone. It sounded like nonsense and nonsense was not welcome in their lives. What more was the word hitchhiker, Harry had listened as Vernon countless times ranted about hitchhikers and their loose morals, how they so unashamedly took advantage of good common people and murdered them for their monies. Shrugging, Harry opened the book and started to read.

_Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun..._

 

 

Nymphadora Tonks, Nymphadora only to her mother, had been watching Harry from across the playground for hours. Cooling charms and a liberal amount of sunscreen kept her from dying of a heat stroke. Today she was disguised as an elderly gentleman, reading his paper and doing the cross-word puzzle. She'd copied her grandfather, Albert Tonks' style, a man who strongly believed in always being properly groomed and dressed.

It had been a quiet morning and quite frankly she wasn't looking forwards to her Auror shift at three. The parchment work on her desk would alone ensure that her blood pressure rose through the roof. When she had joined the auror academy she had never imagined the wast amount of time they had to spend behind their desks, writing and signing rapports, reading others rapports, court transcripts, it went on and on. So she would so much rather sit here, quietly, watching Harry. Harry who seemed so engrossed in the book he was reading if the animated look on his face was anything to go by. She hadn't seen him this relaxed, or this amused before.

 

Just as she was about to stab her paper with her pencil, the cross-word was being stupid, how was she to know what a '5-letter Yiddish word for bedbug' was, she noticed a kid with bright dark blue hair walk into the park. He was short, about 5'2'' and skinny, the black tank top not hiding anything. His hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and even then it reached his bum. What made her blink in surprise was not the hair or the colour of it, it was the small metal balls the sun glinted off on his face. There were three under his bottom lip and a row under and over the end of his left eyebrow. She'd never seen anything like it before and made her wonder if this was some new form muggle fashion that had popped up in the recent years. Her grandfather had had some choice words to say about the girls in the 70's and how they would paint them selves with eastern symbols and non flattering make-up, maybe this was something like that? He did however look tense, he was looking around the playground with a small, unhappy frown and as his eyes landed on her he raised the decorated eyebrow before moving on, searching for something. She became worried when the boy froze for a moment, his face turned towards Harry.

 

 

“What'cha readin'?” Harry blinked and looked up, eyes widening at the sight of the strange looking boy standing in front of him. Just about everything about the boy was strange, the hair, the metal studs on his face, even his eyes! They were a deep, rich purple, like sparkling amethysts.

“Er...” He tried, not sure what the guy had asked him, all he could think about was how glad he was that Dudley were far away form the park. Dudley didn't need more kids to torture. The boy lifted an eyebrow in reply.

“The book?” He gestured towards Harry's lap.

“Oh, ehm, it's called The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.” Harry put a finger on the page he was reading before closing the book and showing the other boy the cover.

“Cool, it's a good book.” He said, turning his head away. Harry could see the guy's jaw muscles clenching and unclenching and his entire posture seemed tense, uncomfortable. “Aw, fuck it.” He heard him mutter, a scowl twisting over his face. “Listen, I gotta talk to you...”

“You two youngsters aren't having trouble are you?” A gruff voice interrupted the blue haired boy. Harry realised that the elderly man form across the park was standing just behind the kid, his newspaper rolled up in his hand.

“No sir, we...”

“Who are you?!” Harry gaped at the boy, the man had probably only meant to keep the peace.

“Now listen here young man, I don't want you two to cause a kerfuffle...” The old man shook his newspaper at the other boy.

“Can it geezer! No one your age looks at a kid our age like you've been looking at him all day without ulterior motive!” The boy snapped, his eyes hard. Yet, Harry noted, his body seemed relaxed, not ready to fight. Then the words he'd spoken registered and Harry felt himself break out in cold sweat. Not because the old man could be a paedophile, but the old man could be a death eater in disguise.

“WHAT?!” The elderly man squeaked, high pitched and rather girly in Harry's opinion. But the most suspicious thing that happened was a slight flicker in the man's appearance. Quick as lightning, the boy grabbed Harry by the arm and heaved him to his feet.

“RUN!” He yelled, sprinting towards the gate, dragging Harry with him.

“Wait, what?!” Harry exclaimed, not sure what was going on. Merlin's balls, he'd never seen anything like that flicker before, as if the old man had in a fraction of a second been someone else. Glamour charm? He didn't know, and didn't really have time to think it through either, they were running through the streets, the other boy pulling him along at a break neck speed. It was all he could do not to trip over his own feet.

 

 

Tonks had no idea what had just happened. She hadn't liked the way the other boy had stalked towards Harry, and then the tense, almost hostile body language he showed when they talked. There had been nothing for it, she'd had to interfere, it was her job to make sure Harry was safe. And she'd never seen the boy before in the neighbourhood, he could very well be a threat. Gritting her teeth she took off after the boys, changing her shape to a young woman as not to draw attention. She would not have anything happening to Harry on her watch, Sirius would kill her.

 

 

“In here!” Harry dimly heard a door slam behind them, his chest was on fire, he couldn't breathe properly and his legs felt like jelly. He sank down onto his knees, hands on the floor as he tried to get as much oxygen into his lungs as possible. Dark spots and stars flashed across his vision and blood roared loudly in his ears. It had been years since he'd run that fast and that long, as Dudley got fatter and fatter he also became slower and slower. Harry hadn't needed to run much in the last four years and Quidditch practise didn't involve any cardio or endurance.

“Dad!” Harry looked at the other boy in shock, how come he weren't in the same state as him self, how come he weren't even struggling to breathe? Yes he was breathing harder, but not even half as bad as Harry, and he was standing, walking and even yelling! It shouldn't be possible!

“Ran?” The voice of a man had Harry looking from the other boy to where it came from. A tall, muscular man with rather wild looking white hair and a long scar diagonally across his face had walked into the room. “Sweet Divine! What's going on?”

“Yeah... I'd like... to... know too...” Harry panted, swallowing as he tried to slow down his breathing. The white haired man crossed the room in four long strides and helped Harry onto his feet and into a couch. Harry looked over at the boy, his face was turned away, he was scowling again and his jaw muscles were working hard.

“Ran, what did you do?” The man's voice was sharp, yet his tone mild.

“There was an old geezer ogling him, I got him away.” Was the short clipped answer from the boy, Ran. Ran's dad glanced at Harry as if to verify the statement and Harry grimaced, silently hoping that was true and secretly dreading it had been a death eater. And if that was the case, Ran and his dad wouldn't be safe. “Except it wasn't an old man.” Harry snapped to attention, had Ran seen the same as him? He didn't notice that Ran's dad had stiffened and was looking sharply at his son.

“Explain!” Ran's scowl deepened at his dad's order.

“I think it was a metamorph, a female, and she'd been watching him all morning.”

“And you know this because?” Harry had no idea what a metamorph was or if it was a good thing or a bad thing. It could still be a death eater, but then were these two wizards as well?

“Because she lost focus for a second when I called her a paedophile. Her form fell in the shock.” Ran's voice was still hard, defiant.

“Ran.” Ran's dad sighed and sat down on the coffee table, running a hand through his already messy hair. “You're being stubborn. Just explain what you were doing, please.” And just like that it seemed like all the fight drained form Ran, his shoulders slumped and his chin dropped.

“Fine.” Ran sighed. “I just, I was just curious as to why we'd moved here, ya know, so I walked a bit aimlessly around, trying to get a feel of the place. That's when I noticed the old man...” He made a face, his upper lip curling in disgust. “There was no way he could be _just_ an old man, fully dressed in tweed, with a fedora, in this heat. The geezer would have suffered a heat stroke within minutes. But I let it go and walked by.” He shrugged, scratching him self behind an ear. “There was something else tickling my senses, so I tried to find out what it was. Took me a while before I found it too.”

“Sweet Divine, please tell me you didn't go sticking your nose... Bright Eyes, how many times do we have to tell you...” The only adult in the room looked weary, as if this was a common occurrence.

“I didn't stick my nose into anything dad. What I found was a house warded up the ying-yang.” Harry sucked in a harsh breath, there were another wizard family in the neighbourhood? Ran's dad gave him a sidelong glance before looking back at his son, silently telling him to continue. “So I climbed into a nearby tree to see if I could figure out the ward scheme.” Ran's dad groaned and put his head in his hands.

“I'm gonna castrate your father...” He muttered softly.

“Didn't get very far tho.” Ran shrugged. “The whole place was crawling with cats. There was this one who kept trying to eat my hair...” This time Ran shuddered, but Harry was gaping. There was only one house he knew off that was, as Ran said, crawling with cats.

“Why the bloody hell would Mrs Figg's house be warded?” He blurted out before he had a chance to stop him self.

 

§§§

 

Tonks had lost the boys, they were so much faster than she'd anticipated and to her own shame she'd realised just how badly in shape she her self was. She blamed it on all the hours sitting behind the desk doing parchment work, but she also vowed to her self to do something about it. But for now she had to find Harry, because she did not want to tell the next one on the guard, Remus, that she'd lost him. Despite her self she blushed at the thought of the werewolf, she'd only known him for a few weeks but Hecate help her, the man was just so damned good looking! Pushing the thoughts of Remus on the back burner she got back to Harry and how to find him. She had no idea where they would run, she didn't know Harry or his hideouts, if he had any. Scowling to her self she ducked into a narrow hedgerow alley between two houses and pulled out her wand.

“Point me Harry Potter.” The wand lying flat in her hand spun around before it stilled, showing her what direction she had to go. Transfiguring her clothes into something more appropriate to her current disguise, a light flowing summer skirt and top, she headed out in the direction of the point me spell.

 

She'd been forced to repeat the spell a few times as she wasn't able to walk in the direct line, not with houses in the way and needing to find a way around, but in the end she was looking at a house. Initially she'd walked passed it, thinking it was just another obstacle, but when the next spell pointed her back she figured it had to be this one. It was painted grey and looked more or less like the rest of the houses in the street. Taking a deep breath, absently wondering how she was going to pull off 'operation Rescue Harry', Tonks walked up towards the front door. The moment she stepped onto the property she felt wards tickling over her skin, it instantly put her on edge. Witches lived here! There was no record of any magicals living in the area, except for Harry, not at the Ministry or with the Order. It made her teeth itch and getting Harry away became even more important. It was a tricky situation, no matter how badly she wanted just to blast down the door, grab Harry and apparate him back at his house, she couldn't. This was a muggle neighbourhood and despite how deserted the streets might have looked, people could still be watching from inside their houses so she couldn't risk using magic until she was inside. And then there was the factor that if Harry didn't know he was in danger and she just barged in, he might as well think she was the bad guy. Not to mention that Dumbledore had told them to stay hidden and not reveal them selves. Harry was not to know he was being watched. It felt like she was damned if she did and damned if she didn't. But she had to make sure Harry was safe, so there was nothing to it other than just ring the bell and hope.

 

 

The sound of the doorbell chiming had the three in the living room looking towards the front door. Harry's question about Mrs Figg was left unanswered as Ran's dad got up to answer the door. He gave both boys a look that clearly said to keep quiet about their conversation and Harry just nodded, trying to figure out why the batty old woman had magical wards on her house. Harry had never in all the time he'd spent there seen or experienced anything that could be magic, her house was nothing like the Burrow, where magic was everywhere. Sure, he didn't have any other magical household to compare with but still, he figured that there would be some magic going on in the house of magic users, even if said magic users lived in a muggle town. Yet if he was to go with that thought and the suspicion that Ran and his dad were wizards, where was the magic in this house. Harry tried to look around without seeming as he was looking, to see if he could spot any magic, there was no clock like Mrs Weasley's on the walls, no knitting needles knitting on their own, no owl perch, no owl. The living room looked strangely muggle and modern, except there was no television to be seen. Most of the walls were covered in bookshelves, with books in the process of being put up, there were a few shelves that were filled, some in the process and more empty. Cardboard boxes were stacked all over and Harry remembered that Ran had said they'd just moved here, so maybe all the magical items where still packed up? The sight of so many books had him thinking of Hermione and how this would look like a dream to her, a living room slash library.

 

 

Tonks plastered a bright smile on her lips as the door opened to reveal a really tall and muscular man with snow white hair, cyan blue eyes and a long scar slashed across his face. He was tanned and dressed in a tight t-shirt with cargo shorts. The man was all muscles and he was looking at her rather blankly.

“Hi! Listen I know this is rather awkward, but my cousin Harry...” She didn't get any further before there was a large crash from inside the house, it sounded as if a lot of china had crashed to the floor along with something heavy. So without thinking, she rushed passed him, her wand at the ready and intent on saving Harry. Once inside she was however stopped short at the sight of Harry sitting in a couch and the blue haired boy standing at the side and she realised as she looked at Harry's wide eyes that he was looking at her wand, and that Harry had no idea who she was or that she was there to help him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Harry barked as he shot up from the couch and backed away from her, fear and suspicion now clear in his eyes.

“I'd like to know that too.” A wand tip was pressed against her neck, an icy burn was slowly spreading from the contact point and Tonks stood frozen to the spot, not daring to move. A moment later her own wand was yanked from her grip and out of the corner of her left eye she saw the other boy dancing out of reach with it. “Answer!” The order was snapped from behind her, the voice low and dangerous. Harry was looking at her with fearful determination as he continued to back away towards the doorway at the far end of the room. She knew in that moment that she was standing at the precipice and it was a huge one. Something told her this could make or break everything. How and why she didn't know, only that it was all on her. And all she knew was that she wanted Harry to be safe and happy.

“I'll talk.” She replied, keeping her eyes locked on Harry. “My name is Nymph...” She took a deep breath, pushing her dislike for her first name away. “Nymphadora Tonks, I'm Sirius' cousin.”

 

 

Harry felt faint, he watched as the young woman morphed into a different young woman with shockingly bright pink hair and a tiny voice at the back of his head muttered something about being the only one with a normal hair colour. She was claiming to be Sirius' cousin, but Sirius had never spoken about his family, not that Harry had asked either he realised. All they had ever talked about had been him, and his problems. Harry had never thought about getting to know more about his godfather save the fact that he'd been his father's best friend. It was a bit humbling to realised how self absorbed he'd been and that the only times he'd written to Sirius had been when he needed something fixed. Yes, with Sirius on the run, sending letters back and forth would be risking Sirius' location revealed, but still Sirius had come back when he'd heard about his involvement in the tournament. And all they had talked about then had been Harry begging him to go away again and Sirius trying to help him with the tasks.

“And how do you suppose I can verify that? Sirius have never spoken about his family to me and I have no way to contact him and ask.” Harry replied, once more cursing the Dursleys for locking up Hedwig. Nymphadora looked a bit dismayed at his answer.

“I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I'm a part of an Order, an Order started by Dumbledore in the last war.” She sighed. “The Order have been tasked by Dumbledore to guard you, I've got about two hours left of my shift, Remus Lupin have the next one.” Harry wanted to blurt out 'Professor Lupin?' but caught him self before it happened. For all he knew she could be fishing. He'd never heard of any kind of order, unless you counted the death eaters as an order, and none started by Dumbledore, he was sure Hermione would have told him if that was the case.

 

 

Tonks could see that Harry still didn't believe her but he did look uncertain and no longer inclined to run off. She had to come up with something to convince him, but she had no idea how. There wasn't much personal information on Harry given as they weren't supposed to talk to him or even let him know they were there and she hadn't been in the Order long, certainly not long enough to know things like who knew him the best and inside information that would be between them and Harry.

“If I could have my wand back I'm willing to give you a vow that I am speaking the truth.” She sighed, it was a long shot, but it was the only thing she could think of.

“Shape-shifter if you think I'll let you have your wand, you're an idiot.” The growl came from behind her, reminding her that she was still held at wand point and had an angry male behind her. On the other had it had given her an idea.

“Sirius turns into a large black wolfhound!” She almost shouted and watched as Harry's face turned hopeful.

“What is the name of his animagus form?” Harry asked softly, for once willing, it seemed, to believe her.

“I... I don't know.” Tonks answered. She really didn't. “All I know is that he keeps changing back and forth into the dog all day long. It drives everyone batty.” Harry clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor, Tonks prayed that it had been enough, that he would believe her.

“So you've been sitting at the park all morning, in the sun, disguised as an old man in tweed just to keep an eye on him?” The blue haired boy asked, giving her a hard look.

“Um, yes. There is nothing wrong with an old muggle sitting in the park reading a newspaper, now is there?” Tonks replied, still wondering why he'd called her out in the park as he did.

“Probably not, if it hadn't been thirty degrees and sunny and you hadn't been sitting in the sun, dressed in wool from head to toe and not even sweating.” He snorted and Tonks realised just how right he was, she should have gone with her young woman idea.

“But from that to call me a child molester?” That was still smarting and he just shrugged at her.

“Something wasn't right and when you interrupted me telling him... It was the easiest way to know for sure. You passed by the way.”

“I passed? Passed what?”

“The test. No paedophile would react with such genuine emotion.” And how in Hades would he know that, Tonks wondered.

“Then why did you run?”

“Because you weren't an old man. Your shape flicked for a moment in the shock and I knew there had been something strange with you. There are worse things to encounter than nasty old men.” He sneered and Tonks was a bit taken aback with the fact that he'd noticed her form slipping for that tiny moment.

“Eh, right.” She had to concede the point and they hadn't known she was there to protect Harry. “But I swear that I'm no threat to either of you. I'm here to make sure no harm comes to Harry.”

“So you say.” The boy shrugged. “It'll be up to Harry to decide if we should give you the benefit of the doubt or not.”

 

 

Harry in the meanwhile had been battling with him self, he wanted to believe her, even if that opened another can of worms of questions, but he had promised him self not to be so blue-eyed and naïve any more. He fervently wished he could get confirmation on the things she'd said, just so he could either believe her or run. It would have been so easy to just ring up Sirius and ask, but the wizarding world didn't have telephones, that would have been too convenient.

“I don't know if I should believe you or not.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But wizards don't have any way of instant communication and I don't want to stand here for hours waiting for a written reply. And that is a no go anyway, I don't have any way to send a letter.”

“But what about your owl?” Nymphadora asked, sounding surprised. Harry made a face, he didn't really want to tell them his uncle had locked her up or tell them he'd been locked out of the house for the day.

“As I said, I don't want to stand here waiting for a reply, it could take hours, and we don't have that.” He answered instead.

“You could floo?” She suggested. “Only, I would have to say the address, as it is a secret.”

“No floo connection.” Ran's dad answered her, giving Harry an apologetic look. Which meant the only other option he had was to give her her wand so she could make a vow, whatever that was.

“How does this vow thing work anyways?”

 

 

Tonks blinked, he didn't know how vows worked? How was that... never mind, she thought, mentally shaking her head.

“I will swear on my magic that I'm telling or will be telling the truth and if I lie to you after my magic will be forfeited. That is the simple version anyway.” She explained, knowing that the man behind her could and probably would verify that she was right. There was no way for her to find out if he had done that, but Harry seemed to believe her after a moment and that was all that mattered.

“So you need your wand for it, right?” He asked, clearly not happy about that.

“Yes.” Tonks answered, she didn't dare nod, there was still a wand pressing lightly into her neck. And Harry looked so unhappy about it all. She just hoped she'd get the chance to make a vow, so he wouldn't need to worry about her being the bad guy.

“Eh, Mister...” Harry had shifted his gaze to the man standing behind her.

“Storm, Dane Storm.” Tonks had never heard of any pureblood family named Storm, but then again she hadn't paid much attention when her mother had tried to teach her the names of the pureblood families in Britain.

“Right, thank you.” Harry nodded. “Mr Storm, could you please watch out in case she does something she shouldn't if I give her her wand to make a vow with?”

“Of course.” Mr Storm agreed and the boy holding her wand looked at Harry. Harry nodded to him and it took all the will power Tonks had not to grin widely as he handed her her wand back. It wouldn't have worked in her favour, no matter how relieved she was to have it back.

“Right.” She swallowed and held up her wand, pointing it towards the ceiling. “I, Nymphadora Tonks, do swear upon my magic that what I have told so far is the truth and what I will be telling for the next hour will be the truth. So I say, so mote it be!” Her wand flashed white and when the glow had settled she said softly; “Lumos.”

“She is sincere and have spoken true.” Mr Storm sighed, and Tonks shuddered lightly as the biting cold of the wand point vanished.

 

 

Once again Harry felt as if his legs wouldn't carry him and he carefully made his way towards the couch so he could sit down. She had been telling the truth... and didn't that just put a spanner in the works? He needed to think, to understand. He needed answers.

“Ran, could you get some orange juice and biscuits for Harry?”

“Sure dad.” Harry saw Ran giving him a worried look as he walked passed.

“Can I offer you anything, Tonks was it?” Mr Storm asked, gesturing towards the couches and offering her a seat.

“A glass of water would be nice, thank you.” She replied, giving Harry a tentative smile. Harry couldn't offer one in return, he was too occupied with trying to make sense of it all.

“DAD! Why are the mugs smashed all over the kitchen floor?” A look of surprise and then defeat flew across Mr Storm's face before he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That damned shelf.” He muttered and Harry blinked, remembering the loud crash they'd heard just before Nymphadora had run in. Something that seemed to have happened days ago. Harry groaned silently and rubbed his face with his hands. Why did things like this always happen to him? Some gigantic cosmic joke?

“I thought otosan told you he'd fix the shelf when he got home?” Ran's voice had him looking up, just in time to catch the pack of crisps heading towards him.

“Yes, he did. Go get some water for the lady.” Mr Storm shooed his son back to the kitchen. “Eat and drink Harry, you look a bit pale.” Harry just nodded and drained half the glass of orange juice in one go, he didn't know just how thirsty he had been. It was blessedly cold and fresh and he could feel it going down his throat and into his stomach. Taking a deep breath he decided to just get started, it didn't feel like he'd get anywhere on his own in this and he wanted to know as much as he could.

“Right, so... what's this about an order and why are you guarding me?”

 

 

Tonks had expected that question and she sort of had the answer.

“The Order was, as I said, founded by Dumbledore during the last war, in order to combat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” She saw Harry roll his eyes at the name, but continued. “He resurrected the Order straight after the tournament and I was recruited a month or so ago. It's purpose is still the same, but we're also guarding you. Now that the death eaters are at large again I suppose that Dumbledore thought it best that you were watched, for your own safety.”

“And why weren't you supposed to tell me?” Harry frowned at her and she shrugged.

“I have no idea, Dumbledore's orders. Maybe he didn't want your summer disturbed or something. I'm not sure you know any of the ones on guard duty anyway.”

“Right, so I've got a round the clock guard, watching my every move and I have no right to know?” He asked incredulously and all she could do was give him an apologetic look, she had no answer to that. “Then care to tell me why Mrs Figg's house is warded through the roof? I thought there weren't any wizards or witches living here other than me.”

“Mrs Figg is a squib, Harry. She can't protect her self and needs the extra wards.” Tonks reprimanded mildly.

“A squib?!” Harry almost chocked on the crisps.

“Yes, she's one of the few left of the old Order, or so I've been told.” She nodded, wondering why they were going down this path in the conversation.

“So, she would know who I am, right? Just like the rest of the wizarding world knew my name even before I knew I was a wizard.” Tonks frowned, unsure why Harry seemed to take such umbrage to this.

“Yes, she might be a squib, but she isn't cut off from the wizarding world as most squibs are.”

“That, that...” Harry apparently had trouble absorbing what she's said, he looked around wildly as if it would be easier to understand. “Then _why_ did she never tell me who I am? _What_ I am? She had enough opportunities to do so over the years as every time the Dursleys went somewhere they catered me off to her!” The anger is Harry's eyes made her shrink back a bit, but he had a valid point.

“She babysat you and never told you?” She asked, just to clarify. Something was going on and she wanted to have all the facts. Her eyes widened slightly as Harry just about growled back.

“Yes, Hagrid was the one to tell me when he came to give me my Hogwarts letter.” Oh dear! Tonks grimaced, no longer surprised at his reaction, but her brain had cottoned onto something else he'd said.

“Why did Hagrid deliver your letter? As far as I remember it's McGonagall or Sprout that deliver the letters to muggleborns and muggle raised.”

“Beats me.” Harry shrugged and it took Tonks a moment before she got the phrase.

“Right, well...” She swallowed and took a sip of the water she'd forgotten. “I don't know why Mrs Figg didn't tell you, you should probably ask her that.”

“Why can't you tell me the floo address to Sirius? I thought he was on the run again.” He sounded sullen and she couldn't fault him. Not really. Sirius was someone important to him and as such he probably thought he would be told about such things as where Sirius was staying.

“No, he stayed behind to help Dumbledore get the Order back up and the temporary headquarters under a secrecy charm...”

“Fidelius?” Harry snorted and Tonks blinked, he knew about the fidelius charm but not vows? The fidelius was rather obscure, vows were quite common. “Who's the secret keeper?”

“Eh, Dumbledore I think.” She didn't quite know what to make of it, the only thing she did know was that something weren't adding up. “How come you know about something as obscure as the Fidelius charm? I didn't know about it until a month or so ago. And even going as far as to know the specifics of it as well...”

“Because Sirius is accused of being my parents secret keeper. And because he didn't get a trial, I was shipped off to the Dursleys. And because Fudge is a bastard I'm still stuck with them! I told him that Sirius is innocent, I told him Pettigrew is alive and was the real secret keeper, but did he listen? No, he just told me it was all nonsense and summoned a dementor so he could have Sirius kissed on the spot. And because Fudge is a moron Voldemort is now back, Cedric is dead and the ministry is denying the whole thing. And why didn't Sirius get a trial? Because EVERYONE KNEW he was their secret keeper, no use in wasting half an hour and three drops of veritaserum to confirm it was him! Since EVERYONE KNEW!” By this point Harry was almost vibrating with anger, his green eyes hard as flint. “Dumbledore was Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot then and he still is, but have he tried to get Sirius a trial? He knows Sirius is innocent, he might not have thought so then, but he keeps sprouting 'everyone deserves a second chance' so why didn't he, when things had settled down after the last war...” Harry trailed off, shaking his head. “Sometimes I think he didn't want to risk Sirius being innocent as then he would get custody over me. Sometimes I think he wanted me to stay with the Dursleys, ignorant of everything. And now that you've told me that Mrs Figg is a squib, AND a part of the old order Dumbledore ran during the last war, I think that... that she was placed there to spy on me, make sure I stayed ignorant. And she knew how the Dursleys was, it wasn't something I could hide, and that means that Dumbledore knew and wanted it like that.” The last part of his rant was almost inaudible, but Tonks had heard it and she was shocked. How could he think like that and yet her heart bled for the boy. It was clear to her that there had to be a huge amount of misunderstandings along the way, surely Dumbledore only wanted what was best for him. But she had enough wits to know telling Harry that would not be welcomed.

“Well, I can't really give you any answer to any of that, because I don't know anything about it.” She started and held up her hand as Harry drew a breath to reply. “But I can try to help you find out about some of it. If it's true that Sirius didn't get a trial...”

“It's true!”

“He could have been tried in absentia Harry, and in that case Sirius probably wouldn't know about it.” She explained gently. Harry just scowled at her, looking mutinous. “Anyways, I might be able to pull the court transcripts from the archive...”

“How? Why haven't anyone done that before if it's just a matter of...”

“Harry!” Tonks gritted her teeth as he just glared back. “If you just let me finish! I get that you are angry, truly I do, but your getting nowhere if you keep trampling ahead like a rampaging hippogriff. The first rule of an auror is that there is _always_ more than one side of the story. First I have to see if I can get my hands on the court transcripts, and then if there isn't any I can go to my superiors and take it further. There aren't any quick fixes to this. If you want it to stick, you have to do it the right way, through the right channels. Even if you dropped Pettigrew into Madam Bones' lap, singing the truth at the top of his lungs it would not clear Sirius in an instant.” She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “I want Sirius cleared as well. He is the head of his house, and without him able to claim his lordship he won't be able to reinstate my mother to the family. Without him free, she will continue to suffer from not being able to access the family magic. So you see, you are not the only fighting in this. I just never knew he hadn't been given a trial.”

 

 

Harry groaned. Why did he always do this, accuse all and everyone of being against him? Oh he knew most of it came from growing up under the Dursleys roof, he'd learned early that few could be trusted with anything and yet here he was almost biting the head of someone who wanted the same as him, just because they came from different angles. He kept on hating people who didn't tell him everything going on and yet he never offered any information in return. The only reason he'd blurted out that Sirius hadn't gotten a trial was because he'd been pissed, and thus his mouth ran off without him. He did realise he had some rather major flaws, but changing years of behaviour that had kept him alive wasn't as easy as one thought. Yet another thing he'd have to work on he supposed.

“So you can find out if Sirius had had a trial then?” He asked with a sigh.

“Yes, it might take me a while, but I know I can find out. It'll be tricky, I'll need a reason to see the files, but I'll come up with something, don't worry.”

“That's the problem, I can't help but worry. I'm cut off out here. No one tells me anything and just expects me to jump when they shout.” He snorted, shaking his head. “And now I've found out that witches and wizards are watching me twenty-four seven. It just rubs me the wrong way.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Nymphadora nodded. “If it helps, there aren't anyone watching inside the house, just outside and when you leave the property.” She gave him a crocked smile. It helped a bit to know no one was spying on the inside, at least then no one could gossip about how Harry Potter was treated as a house elf by his relatives. But it didn't lessen the hurt or the anger. “Anyways, I think I should walk you home, Remus will appear soon and your aunt and uncle must be getting worried...”

“No.”

“Harry...”

“Hey, listen lady. If Harry wants to hang out here he can. Remember, your not supposed to talk to him, he is isn't supposed to know he's got a guard or what ever it is you call it and all you need to tell this Remus is that he is visiting a friend.” Ran butted in and Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards the other boy, even more so when Nymphadora scowled at him.

“But he isn't supposed to leave Privet Drive!”

“So he's a prisoner in his own home?” This time it was Mr Storm who inserted him self into the conversation.

“Of course not!”

“Then there is no reason he can't stay here. My son doesn't have any friends here and he wants to get to know Harry better. Harry can ring his relatives and tell them where he is if he thinks they are worried.”

“I... I... I can't leave Harry here with people we don't know! For all we know you could whisk him away the moment I turn my back!” Sparks were shooting out of Nymphadora's wand and Harry shot to his feet.

“So I'm not allowed to make friends on my own now?! Is that what you're saying? That the ministry or the order have to approve of who I talk to? What would you have done if we hadn't run from you? Would you still have barged in and hexed them black and blue before you grabbed me and apparated me back to the Dursleys? And then be forced to obliviate me as I'd then seen you?” He shouted, his hands clenched so hard his knuckles had turned white. “And here I was starting to believe you were actually someone who could be trusted! Well, I've had enough! You and Dumbledore can shove your order and your guard up the ass! I didn't ask for any of this!”

“I think you should leave. Before I turn my wards on you.” Mr Storm said gravely, gesturing to the door, his wand in his hand and pointing at Nymphadora. “And you can tell your replacement not to set a foot on my property. I do not take kindly to people who thinks children should be locked up and kept away for the adults convenience.”

 

 

Just one look at Harry was enough to tell Tonks just how badly she'd messed up. He was spitting mad and she knew there were no reasoning with him now. It would be best to walk away and try to talk to him the next time she was on guard duty. But she still didn't feel comfortable with leaving him here, she knew nothing about them and they _could_ be death eaters stationed by You-Know-Who to kidnap Harry.

“I'm not leaving without Harry.” She said forcefully.

The next thing she knew, she was skidding along the pavement in the street having been thrown out by the wards. Her entire backside was burning from the friction burns and she hit her head on the hard ground as she came to a stop. This was not good, now she would have to tell Remus everything as they had to get Harry out of there and she was going to be late for work! Grumbling about stubborn teens and not doing what was good for them, she gingerly got up on her feet and hurried down the street.

 

 

“You know she's now going to get more people here to get me out, right?” Harry sighed and sunk into to couch cushions. The day had so far been a massive roller-coaster of highs and lows. He felt wrung out, chewed out and generally as if he'd been hit by the Knight Bus.

“Oh she can try.” Mr Storm shrugged, a dangerous glint in his bright blue eyes. “My husband's wards are not to be toyed with. As it is now, they can drop a nuke on the house and we wouldn't even feel a tremor. The only ones allowed to enter are me, my husband and my son. Anyone else should start counting their limbs and be sure they can manage without.”

“So, if ya want to stay for a while, you're safe here.” Ran grinned and Harry felt a weak smile stretch his lips in response.

“Thanks, really. I just need some time to adjust to it all. There was a lot of things there that I didn't know and don't know what to do with, now that I do know.” He sighed. “And I don't want to put you guys on the spot, you could probably get in trouble with the ministry for this.”

“It's the right thing to do. It sounds like you have a lot of things on your plate.” Mr Storm said gently, sitting down in the seat vacated by Nymphadora. Ran had sat down sideways in the corner next to Harry, his feet crossed in lotus.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“What's this about a war and is there a new one?” Mr Storm looked a bit confused. “We haven't heard anything about something of the like going on here.”

“You don't know?” Harry frowned. Everyone knew about the last war and although only a few believed Voldemort had returned it wouldn't be long before the death eaters would be active again. And then the ministry would be sorry. Taking a deep breath he settled down to explain. “Right, so it all started in the early seventies, I think. There was this guy who started to gather a bunch of purebloods in order to take over the wizarding world. He and his followers didn't think that muggleborns or muggles had the right to live, or anyone of not the right pureblood line for that matter. They terrorised the magical communities, wrecking havoc and the fear spread. No one was safe, they slaughtered whole families, leaving their call sign to show anyone looking who was responsible. No one knew who they were, they were only known as Voldemort and his death eaters, the death eaters wore black robes and masks to hide their identities. People became so afraid of Voldemort that they couldn't even say his name, they still don't. He's mostly referred to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who. As for the muggle population, they didn't know he'd been preying on them, most of what he did were pinned on muggle terrorists, IRA and the like I think. But he kidnapped muggles to use in hunting games and as entertainment for his followers. There were few who stood up to him and as he started to pick them off one by one they went into hiding. At first in plain sight and then behind secrecy wards and such. Apparently there was a secret order who fought him, but I've never heard of it until today.” He shrugged, not sure what to make of all that Nymphadora had said. “Anyways, it all ended on the thirty-first of October in eighty-one. Voldemort had finally gotten his hands on where two his his most outspoken opponents where hiding and he went to eliminate them. He'd decided to take out the entire family, both the adults and their kid. He killed James Potter first and then followed Lily up into the nursery where he killed her while she was begging him to spare her son.” Harry swallowed, he'd tried to distance him self as he spoke, but he couldn't set aside his emotions when speaking of his mother. The fact that he relived it all whenever a dementor was near made it even harder. A tissue was waved in front of his face and he took it gingerly, he hadn't realised that tears had started to trickle down his cheeks. Blushing, he wiped his face and continued the story. “After that he turned to their son and used the same spell on him as his parents, the killing curse. But something went wrong, the curse rebounded somehow and it hit Voldemort instead.” He sighed and looked down at the tissue in his hands. “No one knows how I survived...” His voice was nothing more than a soft whisper. “But everyone thinks it was 'cause of something I did. I think it was 'cause of something my mum did. How could a kid at fifteen months old stop a grown man from killing him?” Sighing again he leaned forwards and picked up his glass of juice, draining it. “The wizarding world think I'm a hero, they tell their kids stories about me. Everyone knew who I was when I started Hogwarts and I had only known I was a wizard for a month. That my parents had been murdered for a month. Petunia always told me that they died in a car crash. I had enemies before I even knew they existed.” He shook his head. “I'm not a hero, I'm just Harry. There is nothing special about me.”

“You keep saying the wizarding world as if it's all the witches and wizards in the world.” Ran started, poking Harry in the side with a toe. “I hate to break it to ya, but we moved here from Italy, and I've never heard your name before now. We lived in Transylvania before that and no one mentioned you there either. I think you're only famous as far as the British Isles are concerned.”

It was strange, Harry mused, that he'd thought that everyone knew who he was. 'You're famous Harry, _everyone_ knows who you are!' 'You're Harry Potter!' 'Blimey, is it really? Harry Potter!' And then when Fleur had called him a little boy, as if she didn't know who he was... He gritted his teeth, he'd been blinded by him self, by his own fame. A fame he vehemently hated. Yet he always assumed people thought they knew him just because he was famous. He'd never thought that that fame was limited in any way.

“This Voldemort guy sounds a bit like Grindelwald to me.” Mr Storm mused with a frown, making the scar running across his face more pronounced.

“I don't know much about him, other than he was at large during the second world war.” Harry admitted. Binns hadn't exactly covered much history apart from goblin rebellions.

“He kept mostly to the continent, Europe that is. Hid behind the Nazis.” Mr Storm shrugged. “Blood purity and other rot.”

“Dad isn't the biggest on history.” Ran snickered. “But essentially he is correct.”

“What about this new threat?

“It's not new, not really.” Harry answered. “Voldemort was resurrected some three weeks ago. It...” He swallowed. “It wasn't pretty.”

“If ya wanna talk about it, we'll listen.” Ran said gently. “But if ya don't that's okay.”

“What I'd like to know,” Mr Storm sighed. “is how come, if this Voldemort is once again at large, we haven't heard anything about it.”

“That's simple.” Harry grimaced. “Minister Fudge refuses to believe it's true. Told me and Dumbledore that it was impossible and we were out to get him sacked by telling such lies.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “The ministry is incompetent, or at least the minister is.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Mr Storm frowned before he sat up and slapped his hands on his knees. “Not to sound as if I'm taking this lightly or something, but I need to tell Akira I've locked down the house.” He gave Harry and Ran a long look. “Just don't tear it down, blow it up or burn it to a crisp.”

Harry looked at Ran who was scowling at his dad's retreating back.

“You've done all those three?” He asked, wondering if Ran was anything like the twins. Ran gave him a sheepish look as he picked on a loose thread on his shorts.

“Not really, just slightly. When I was six I blew up parts of my dad's potion lab, at seven I tried to breed fire lizards in the kitchen hearth and when I was nine I caused a small rock slide behind the shed and it collapsed.”

Harry couldn't help it, he tried not to laugh, but it came out as a snort and then it morphed into a full laugh. It felt so good to just laugh, after the morning and afternoon he'd had, it bubbled through his veins, made him feel light hearted and light headed.

 

§§§

 

Remus Lupin, werewolf, bibliophile, mild tempered and generally Mr Nice Guy was ready to pull out his own hair, scream in frustration and throw The Tantrum of the year. How in the seven hells had Tonks managed to botch up a simple day watch so badly? Oh, she'd told him, and at first he'd been exasperated until she'd gotten to the conversation, then he'd been thoughtful and worried for Harry. But then she'd gotten to the part that had gotten her thrown out and he had just about blown his lid. It shouldn't be possible to be that thick, not as an auror. So he'd told her not to tell anyone about it and just go to work, he'd fix it for her. Not that he knew how, but he'd figure something out.

 

So here he was, looking at the house Tonks had told him Harry was at and wondering how he was supposed to get to talk to the boy. He did understand why Tonks had reacted like she had, but that didn't mean he thought she'd done the right thing. While _he_ was disillusioned and thus invisible, most message spells would be seen and so they weren't an option, he'd wished for a moment for the communication mirrors that James and Sirius had used in school, but Harry didn't have one and neither did he. He could write a note and send it with an owl, but that would mean leaving his post and he would not leave Harry without possible back up. It was rather annoying the mess Tonks had left for him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to search through his brain for a spell that could go through any ward, be invisible and non threatening.

 

He'd just about given up when a man, dressed in strange flowing trousers and a loose, oversized tank top stopped to check the mailbox. He was Asian with shoulder length, black hair and had silvery grey eyes. Remus watched as he pulled out a couple of letters and some colourful flyers before he turned and headed towards the driveway. The mailbox! How could he be so stupid? And his chance at getting Harry a message had just walked away, the man was almost at the door. Cursing his own stupidity, he was ready to hex him self, he started pacing up and down the pavement.

 

§§§

 

Harry had been helping Ran unpack the rest of his bedroom. Ran had told him that they'd moved here a week ago, but most of their belongings hadn't arrived until yesterday, so he'd been sleeping on a conjured mattress. Apparently the mattress had liked to squeak every time he'd turned, and that it was just like his otosan to give him a squeaking mattress. He had asked then what otosan meant, and Ran had told him it was the Japanese word for father. Harry had pondered on that for a while, pondered on whether or not to ask where his mother was or if he was adopted. Ran didn't look too much like Mr Storm, even if they had the same tan skin, and Harry didn't know what his otosan looked like. He did look a bit Asian, his eyes were almond shaped and slanted, but that didn't nesceseraly mean he was. It had felt strange to steal glances at his new friend as they unpacked, trying to puzzle out the purple eyed boy's heritage, but it also felt good to think of anything so mundane rather than Voldemort.

“Ran! Harry! Dinner!” Mr Storm's voice more or less boomed through the house and Ran massaged his ears.

“I'm not deaf, no matter what he thinks...” He muttered, giving Harry a grin and Harry grinned back. “Come on, I'm hungry.”

 

Downstairs Harry was presented to Akira Ryuzaki Storm, a man almost as tall as Mr Storm and with a soft, slightly shy smile. He told Harry to call him Storm-san as he understood it could be confusing with two mister Storms. Harry had just nodded and thanked him, he had been wondering what to politely call Ran's otosan.

The dining room was packed with more cardboard boxes along the wall, but the round table was seated with four chairs and a large wok pan stood in the middle of the table, a bowl of steaming rice next to it.

“Dig in boys.” Mr Storm grinned, handing them paper plates and plastic forks and spoons. Storm-san poured water into slightly cracked mugs, setting them down before them. Harry was nudged into serving him self first, Ran muttering into his ear that he was a guest and guests were given food first. It made him blush slightly, but the smell of the stir-fried vegetables and rice made his mouth water and stomach growl, so he gave him self a generous plate and sat down, thanking them all the same.

“Do not think about it, Harry-kun.” Storm-san smiled, helping him self to some rice. “Ran-chan has a hard time making friends. It pleases me greatly to see he has already met and made a friend.”

Ran groaned and gave his father a dirty look, but kept on eating. Harry just smiled, he didn't mind being Ran's friend. Ran had already tried to save him from a pervert, even if it turned out not to be one, and hadn't treated him any different when he'd been told of who he was. And it would be nice to have a magical friend to hang out with during the summer.

 

It was almost ten o'clock before Harry thought to leave. After dinner they had gone back up to Ran's room and Ran had taught him a card game called Pantheons. One had a deck of cards each and in that deck one had creatures pertaining to the god who you played and one had to beat the other's god in order to win. You used your creatures to hurt the other god or their creatures standing in defence, but there were also cards that had other effects, such as spells, curses, hexes and even cards that healed the god or the creatures. Harry had had a great time learning the game and playing it, it was a magical game and when you pitted creatures against each other a small illusion of the beasts fighting appeared, or when they used spells, like a fireball, a small fireball zoomed towards the intended target, leaving the card slightly singed. At first Harry had thought that the card had been damaged, but Ran just waved off his concern, the card would return to normal once the game was over. They had played for hours, laughing and cheering for their cards.

 

“I should be going back to my aunt and uncle. They should be home soon and I should probably be there when they do.” Harry sighed as he got up from the floor. They had spent the last hour looking at the different cards Ran had.

“Right.” Ran smiled at him, getting up as well. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure!” Harry grinned, happy that Ran wanted to spend more time with him.

“Besides, if you come here tomorrow, your guards won't be able to snoop on you.” Ran had a point, Harry thought. That order had some gall to follow him without his consent, he understood their worry about Voldemort, but if Dumbledore were so concerned he should have had Harry stay somewhere else during the summer. With that in mind he thought it was time he utilised his marauder and slytherin side, time to make their life a bit more miserable.

“I'll probably come by sometime around nine, ten-ish.” He grinned as they came into the living room. Mr Storm was laying on the couch with his head in Storm-san's lap, his wand out and pointed at the opposite wall. Storm-san was reading a book, saying no every time Mr Storm changed the colour of the wall. He wasn't even looking up from the book!

“Leaving already Harry?” Mr Storm asked, looking surprised.

“It's almost ten, koi.” Storm-san replied, making his husband check the time with a tempus spell.

“Oh.” Was all he said.

“Have a good night Harry-kun. Be safe and have pleasant dreams. You are more than welcome back anytime you so wish.”

“Thank you.” Harry smiled at the two as he bent to tie his shoelaces. “Thank you for dinner and letting me stay for so long. I'll see you tomorrow Ran.”

“Night Harry!”

 

The door shut softly behind him and he breathed in the cooler night air. It was still hot out, but much more manageable and he was already looking forwards to the next day. Walking out into the street he turned towards no4 Privet Drive.

“Harry!” He knew that voice, even if he hadn't heard it for a year. Slowing down he waited for the werewolf to show him self. “Do you have any idea how late it is?” Remus was walking next to him now, dressed in a threadbare tweed suit with his robe folded over his arm.

“I know the time Mr Lupin.” He answered, slightly annoyed that the first thing Remus had said had been a reprimand.

“If you know the time, why aren't you home? Your aunt must be worried...”

“The Dursleys aren't worried. They probably aren't even back yet.” Harry cut Remus off, a frown creeping over his brow. Hadn't Nymphadora told Remus anything? She said she would, didn't she?

“Not back? They left you alone for the whole day?” Remus sounded surprised which in turn surprised Harry. He had sort of steeled him self for another fight. “Harry... could I ask you a question?”

“Sure...” He glanced sideways at Remus, trying to figure out why the werewolf seemed to hesitate. “You can always ask. Can't promise I'll answer.”

“Fair enough.” Remus sighed before falling silent, seeming to need time to formulate his question. Harry just kept their pace slow, trying not to get too worked up or nervous about what it was that Remus was going to ask him. He was just about ready to tell the other to just get on with it when Remus spoke; “Do you have a key to the house?”

Harry was a millisecond from blurting out something non complementary about how long it took to ask such a stupid question, but his brain had finally caught up with what Remus was asking and he felt his cheeks flush.

“No.” He breathed, not able to look at the werewolf. A hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Harry, what would you have done if you hadn't meet the Friedland boy?”

“Eh, who?” His quiet shame vanished in the blink of an eye, Harry had no idea who Remus was talking about.

“The Friedland boy. The boy you've been staying with all day?”

“His name isn't Friedland or whatever it was you called it.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“It said so on the mailbox.” Remus looked at him quizzically.

“His name is Storm, Remus. Ran Storm.” Harry smirked. “Fryland was probably the ones they bought the house from, they just moved here.”

“Ah.” The werewolf looked a bit sheepish and wasn't that a contradiction of terms. “Eh, well, my question still stands. What would you have done if you hadn't met him?”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shoving the other into a trouser pocket.

“I'd probably stayed at the park all day. I had a really good, long book to read as well.”

“And what about food and drink? You didn't have anything with you, did you?” This time Harry gritted his teeth, not really getting why they were getting worried now all of a sudden. No one had cared before and it felt like it was to late to start now. But he held his tongue about it, he'd heard the genuine worry in Remus' voice and it was a bit touching as well.

“There's a drinking fountain in the park. I would have been fine.”

“Maybe. That still doesn't mean I'm okay with it.” Remus said gently, his warm brown eyes serious.

“Well, I spent the entire day with Ran and his dads. There was vegetable stir-fry with rice for dinner and müsli with yoghurt and lots of fruit for supper.” He didn't add that it had been the most he'd eaten in a day since he came back for the summer.

“Sounds... ehm, healthy.” The werewolf seemed a bit put off by the menu, but Harry had loved it and he just grinned back. “And they were okay with you staying for so long?”

“Yeah, seems like I've got a standing invitation to come by. Apparently Ran takes months to make friends when they move, so his dads was really happy.” He couldn't help the grin that stretched his lips, thinking about Ran and his dads and their acceptance of him gave him a warm, slightly fuzzy feeling. It was nice.

“I'm sorry, but I have to ask...”

“Their not.” He cut in, shaking his head. “Don't ask me how I know, but they are good people. I know it could be just them luring me into a false security, but Remus, if I'm to go about thinking everyone is a death eater in disguise I'll go mad. Hells, even you could be one if you are to go down that road. And what about the Dursleys? Ever though about them being convinced by death eaters to hand me over?”

“They can't get to your house Harry.” Remus obviously thought that was going to reassure him but Harry just shook his head.

“All they need to do is find out where I went to primary school, check who is my guardians on the records and then pay Vernon a visit at his work.”

“Harry, there are wards on your house. They keep you and your aunt, uncle and cousin safe. It's why you need to go back every summer, so that the wards can recharge.” That was news to Harry and he frowned at Remus. He didn't know much about wards, but it sounded strange that a ward could do that. Maybe Mr Storm or Storm-san would know.

“And how does that work exactly?” He asked, a sneaking suspicion coiling in his stomach.

“I don't know really.” Remus sighed. “Dumbledore put them up when he left you at your aunt.” And there it was. Harry knew he had to find out all he could about those wards now, if Dumbledore was behind them he wouldn't trust them for a second.

They were almost at no4 Privet Drive and there were still no lights on, nor did Harry see the car in the driveway but he suddenly remembered the parcel he'd been given that morning.

“Hey Remus, do you know anything about a shop or something called Archer, Brighton and Davies?”

“Archer, Brighton and Davies?” Remus looked a bit puzzled as he rubbed his chin with one hand. “No... but I know of a law firm named Archer, Broughton and Davies. Why do you ask?” Broughton? Wasn't it Brighton? Harry mentally shook his head dismissing the thought.

“An owl delivered a package to me early this morning. Dropped it on my desk. I didn't open it or touch it, but it said it was from those names.”

“Maybe I should take that package with me, check it over for curses, hexes and other malevolent charms.” Remus mused. “Once it comes up clear I'll give it back.”

“I could just take it to Mr Storm. He could check it over and then I wouldn't have to wait until next time you're watching me to get it back.” He replied, he was getting rather curious about it now that he knew it was from a law firm. Remus looked like he wanted to protest at that idea but in the end he seemed to change his mind.

“You could do that, but I'd like to know what it is. If it is from a law firm I don't know what it could be about.”

“Sure.” Harry shrugged, he would need to ask Ran if they had an owl he could borrow, or if Mr Storm or Storm-san could take his reply to the owl office and mail it for him.

“Good.” Remus smiled gently and patted his shoulder.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning; Blood and some gore at the end of the chapter, also a bit of swearing. Still un-betaed.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer; Not making any money off this, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

II

 

The Dursleys hadn't gotten home until it was closer to midnight so Harry and Remus had settled in the back garden and talked quietly about nothing of consequence. Remus had told him a few more stories about his parents, how his mother had been best friends with Snape and had detested his father for years. How his father had made an utter fool of him self while trying to put him self in a better light. It had made him feel good to hear such snippets, but his stomach churned at the revelation of Snape and his mother. If they had been such good friends, why did the man hate him so much? He hadn't asked Remus about it, wanting to keep the tone light for the rest of the evening. They had talked about Ron and Hermione and Harry's disappointment at Ron's behaviour when he'd been made a champion. Once more he hadn't told Remus about how Ron hadn't really apologised and how Harry was starting to view his friend. Then they talked about the OWLS that were starting once summer was over and how Harry wished he'd taken something other than divination. Shortly after that the Drusleys had arrived and Remus disillusioned him self while Harry quickly made his way to his room.

 

§§§

 

“Mr Storm, eh... could I ask a favour of you?” Harry looked down into his mug of tea. They were sitting around the dining table, he'd been ushered there the moment he'd arrived at the Storms. Brunch were on the table and he'd eaten the best omelette he'd ever tasted.

“Depends on the favour Harry, but it's always okay to ask.” The white haired man grinned.

“Eh, right.” Harry nodded and picked up a bundle of cloth from his feet. He hadn't been able to get a hold of a plastic bag or a cloth one, so he'd improvised, using an old tee shirt and tied it so he could carry the package without touching it. Putting it on the table, he untied the knots. “Please don't touch it yet.” The brown paper wrapped package were now sitting in plain view. “I got this yesterday morning. It's from an Archer, Broughton and Davies, according to Remus it's a law firm. The thing is, I didn't recognize the names nor the image on the wax and I'm paranoid enough not to touch mail that I don't know who it's from.” He sighed and picked up his mug, curling his hands around it. “So I thought maybe you could check it for me? See if it's safe to touch and open.”

“Sure.” Mr Storm shrugged and flicked his wrist. Harry's eyes widened as Mr Storm's wand just seemed to appear in his had. How had he done that?

“Disillusioned wand holster.” Ran had leaned in and whispered in his ear. The feel of someone's breath so close to his ear made Harry blush softly and he hoped no one had noticed.

“So far it's clean of the most common jinxes, curses and hexes.” Mr Storm informed.

“Could it be a portkey?” Harry had to ask, his stomach was not happy with that thought. Mr Storm looked at him with a raised eyebrow but didn't say anything, he just went back to waving his wand in complicated patterns.

“It's not a portkey. I can't find anything else wrong with it either. I would offer to open it for you, but if it is from a law firm it won't open to anyone but you.”

Harry nodded and thanked Ran's dad before he slowly reached for the package and touched it. When nothing happened he drew a deep breath of relief and started to remove the string. The paper soon followed revealing a dark brown wooden box carved with lilies, a letter on top and a small note on top of the letter. Harry bent over and read the note without touching it.

 

_Mr Hadrian James Potter_

_We have been entrusted to have this delivered to you seven days after the end of your fourth year of schooling. It have been kept in our security vault since 4 th of September 1981._

 

_Regards,_

_Archer – Broughton – Davies_

_Magical Law_

 

Swallowing, Harry looked at the others by the table. Ran was sitting with one leg curled under him and the other with the foot on the seat, slowly eating a bowl of oatmeal while watching him and his dad was calmly drinking his tea with one hand while holding his wand loosely with the other, his eyes trained on the box.

“They... they've had this for me for almost fourteen years.” He managed to say, not sure how he should feel about it. “Why?”

“I don't know why someone have paid to have something delivered to you, but I know it is a more or less common practise to have a law firm entrusted with items or letters that are then delivered at an appointed date, or after a certain amount of time has passed.” Mr Storm clarified calmly. “Want me to check again? Everything should be fine, but I can see you are worried.” Harry just nodded and watched as Mr Storm once again checked the contents for anything malicious. When he declared it safe Harry carefully pulled the envelope out from under the note, touching as little as possible. The front of the envelope had ' _Harry_ ' written on it with an elegant and clear script. He flipped it over and saw it was sealed with undecorated wax and he took a deep breath before he broke it and shook the contents out. Some folded parchment tumbled out and he could see it looked like a letter.

“I think it's from your mum.” Ran spoke, startling him slightly.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, frowning.

“'Cause the box is covered in lilies and wasn't your mother named Lily?” His friend sighed, pointing at the wooden box. Harry swallowed, it made sense, but he couldn't understand why his mother had done it. Why had she written a letter and given that and a wooden box to the lawyers with instructions to give it to him seven days after his fourth year had ended?

“If you read the letter it might give you the answers you're looking for.” Mr Storm said softly. Gritting his teeth and preparing for the worst he snatched up the letter and sat down in his chair, only realising once he was sitting that nothing had happened. Harry closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them and looked at the first page.

 

_Harry_

 

_My sweet little boy! I am writing this letter to you while I'm looking at your beautiful sleeping face. Oh, to have no such cares in the world, I envy you this at the moment. You are my joy, my life and I love you more than I can tell._

_We live in dangerous times my darling and I fear that I will not see you grow up to become the man I know you are. So I am writing to you, to tell you about some thing that you might not have been told. In fact I dare say that no one but your godfather knows about what I am to tell you._

_Firstly I should tell you that I am not muggle born. I was muggle raised, yes. Your dear departed grandparents, Eric and Rose, adopted me when I was about a month old. They could not have children of their own you see. I discovered this when, a month before my sixteenth birthday, I came into my magical inheritance. I did not know about such things until Sirius told me about it. Let me tell you, it was probably the best prank I could have played on him had it not been just as much a surprise to me as to him! I had woken up that morning to a completely different world than the one I had fallen asleep in. Everything was coloured in sepia and my fingernails had turned into claws. There were even tiny scales on my fingers! I freaked out and the next thing I knew Sirius was standing in the dorm room with strips of my sheets floating around him. He stood there gaping like a fish on land, trying to get a word out. It was that sight that left me in stitches laughing and once I'd calmed down everything was back to normal. I could once more see in colour and had normal fingernails and no scales. Sirius then asked me how come I, as a muggleborn, could have gotten a creature inheritance. You might understand how I was none the wiser than the mutt, and I told him as much. I also told him that if he told anyone else about this, I'd castrate him and send his mother the bits, I did not want anyone to know and I made him tell me about this inheritance thing._

_After that I owled my parents, explaining that I had come into a “normal” magical inheritance, but that it had been a month early, which had to mean that my birthday wasn't the day we had celebrated through the years. That was when I was told I was adopted, as well as that Petunia was. It was a shock my sweet, but I had sort of anticipated the truth, as according to Sirius only purebloods and their old blood lines carry so called 'creature' blood. With that in mind I spent countless hours in the library, researching. There was sadly very little in the library on the subject and it took me almost a year before I managed to piece together what kind of blood I had in my line. It turned out it was Naga blood and I have to admit I was relieved to not have gotten more than a partial inheritance. I can never imagine how it would be to have a snake tail for legs. So if you wake up on your sixteenth birthday and can suddenly talk to snakes, don't be alarmed, it is your Naga blood that gives you the ability. But others might not think it is a good thing, so if you do become a Parselmouth be sure you trust those you tell._

_I have not been able to find out from what blood line I hail from, but I find that it is not all that important. I am content with the family I have._

 

_Secondly, my sweet boy, I want to tell you about a spell I have placed on you. Do not worry, it is nothing dangerous. It is an ancient spell that I came across on our honeymoon. The book was so old the pages were falling apart, the ink almost unreadable and it was laying in a dusty, dark corner of this little magical curiosity shop in Mirto. I knew I had to have it, though not why I felt that way, I couldn't even read the language it was written in! But I did buy it and once we came home I started to study it._

_I do not know what the language is called, but I did manage to decipher it after two years and so learn what could be learned from the old pages. Most of it was too fragmented to make sense although by some miracle the spell I placed on you was unharmed and mostly readable. I do thank Hecate everyday for that. The spell is called Exentaser Malpirgi and it will protect you from true evil._

_As to why I feel that you need this protection it is because there is a man, an evil man, walking the earth now and I fear that he will one day come for you. Why, you might wonder, and to that I have no true answer. I have one, but I do not think it is satisfactory and yet, do this man really need more reason than that you are the son of James and me? Some might claim there is method and reason to his madness but I do not see it._

_But back to the spell my darling. It is from an obscure branch of magic called Entropy. Obscure because it is no longer in use and as far as I can tell haven't been used in about 2000 years. Entropic magic requires sacrifice of equal measure. It is simply said; nothing lives without death. And these times are perilous. So I have cast the spell on you, knowing that you will live because of it. And that, my dear son, is all that I want. I care nothing for my own life if it means you will grow up, safe and secure. I do realise that this will bring you sorrow and for that I am truly sorry, but you will live and in time understand the love that makes such a sacrifice insignificant._

_In the box you will find the original book, all my notes and the spell. Keep it safe._

 

_My dearest wish is for you to find love and happiness. Do not let the burdens of your Lordship drag you down. Be fair, be just and listen to your heart. Even if it brings you sorrow and sadness, it will not steer you wrong._

 

_I love you always and forever. My Hadrian, my Harry._

 

_Love_

_Mum_

 

 

Harry was dumbstruck. He read and re-read the letter, then read it again. His eyes flickered to the wooden box once or twice but he had no intentions of opening it now, he knew what it contained so it could wait. But he had been right, his suspicion about how he had survived the killing curse had been proven right. It was both a good feeling and a bad feeling. For now he knew exactly what his mother had done to save him, and it broke his heart to read it. How had she known though, had she just acted on gut instinct or was there something else that he didn't know about?

A mug of hot tea was put down next to him. Startled he looked to his right and saw Ran sit down, a book in his hands.

“You okay?” The purple eyed boy asked gently.

“I don't know.” He replied honestly. It was the truth, he felt like he was just floating. Frowning he looked around and realised that the brunch had been cleared off and it was just him a Ran there. “There is something I don't get though...” He murmured as he looked down at the letter again. “She talks about a magical inheritance.” He left out the creature part, suddenly not sure if it was something he should tell anyone about.

“What about it?” Ran asked, shifting in his seat to face Harry more directly.

“She said something about a... ehm... normal one? What does that mean, what does it do?” Harry could guess what the other one did, the not normal one. Ran had raised his left eyebrow at him.

“Don't get me wrong Harry, but you don't know? Haven't you been taught about it at school? I understand that the muggleborn and muggle raised don't get told by their parents or guardians, but that is why they have those classes at school.”

“What do you mean? What classes?” Confusion and anger was rolling about in his stomach, Ran made it sound like it was common knowledge.

“I don't remember what they are called, but all the schools I've gone to have had them. They are mandatory for all muggleborn and muggle raised. I think they are something like an introductory class, teaching traditions, customs, the do's and don't's and stuff like the inheritances. Why someone get something other than the others and such.”

Harry swallowed and shook his head.

“We don't have anything like that at Hogwarts.” He whispered. Ran blinked at him looking surprised.

“How can you no.... no never mind. I'll explain it to you. Okay, so, all magical humans get what is called a magical inheritance on their sixteenth birthday. What happens is that your core will expand to it's full potential. Something about how we are then mature enough to handle our true strength...” His friend shrugged. “Ever noticed that sixth and seventh years are suddenly so much more taller and bigger?” Harry nodded, he had noticed. Only he'd always chalked it up to sudden growth spurts, to them being closer to full maturity. “It's because with the core expanding the body needs to be able to contain it. That's not to say that if you are short and petite you can't be a powerhouse magically, mostly it is about how close you are to your magic, how connected you are.” Ran made a face, seemingly not happy with his own explanation. “What I'm trying to say... you are most likely to grow a few inches, gain some muscle tone, be almost a complete adult. What is left is to learn how to harness and safely use your new strength, how you are now able to preform more powerful spells and all that. Dad said that is why the majority age is seventeen, we need that time after to get used to our 'new' selves” He made quotation marks with his fingers.

“That's all?” Harry asked, feeling annoyed that no one had seen fit to inform, not just him, but the other muggleborns about it. It wouldn't have taken more that a few minutes to tell, it didn't even have to be the professors, the seventh year prefects could do it.

“Essentially, yes.” Ran nodded. “There is more to it, a bunch of theories about what determines how big a core one gets and how ones size and upbringing will affect it, if at all, and how much it is going to change, etcetera etcetera. But it's mostly healers and academical theorists that feel they need to categorize and label everything. Personaly I say it's magic, magic is unpredictable and thus they are going to go mad from all the anomalies.” Harry groaned, his head thumping softly against the table top.

“Ran, please, could you do me a favour? Write down everything you know about this and please list any and all books that hold even the tiniest bit of information of this. I need to give it, along with a letter from me, to my friend Hermione. Her birthday is on the nineteenth of September, she'll be sixteen then and she is a muggleborn. If I don't and she finds out I knew of it and didn't tell her....” He turned his head and looked at his friend pleadingly. “She'll give me so much grief it isn't even funny.”

Ran snorted, his lips stretched in a wide smile as he nodded. Harry breathed out in relief.

“And I need to write to Remus about what was in the package. He made me promise.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Think one of your dads would post it for me? If I asked of course...”

“Nah, you could just borrow Artemis. She doesn't get much work to do.” Ran shrugged. “I'll get started on that essay ya want me to write. C'mon, you can borrow some paper and a pen and write Remus.” Harry nodded and stood from his seat. His eyes fell on the box and he smiled sadly. He finally had something that had belonged to his mother and for once he had more from his mum that he had from his dad. He had a letter in her handwriting with words meant for him only, he had something she had touched. Taking a deep breath, he put the letter back into the envelope and picked up the box, then he followed Ran up to his room.

 

§§§

 

Remus was sitting at the table in the basement kitchen of number 12 Grimauld Place. It was the only room, apart from his bedroom and Sirius' bedroom that weren't covered in dust, filth and grime. A pot of tea was steeping in front of him and Sirius was trying to find cups to use.

“That's it Remus, next time you're out, get some cups!” Sirius sounded disgusted and Remus couldn't blame him. Most of the china in the house were covered in grime, sticky grime. He had spent hours washing two cups only to have them crack and break once they were clean. Mending them with magic only worked for so long and the china was fighting it with all it had. In fact the whole house was fighting them with tooth and nails, furniture stuffing and curtains. And Remus could guess why. His best friend was trying to claim his inheritance without accepting his responsibilities and family magics. He was still denying his heritage. It was no use talking to him about it, he was stubborn as a mule.

“So what are you going...” He didn't get any further as a dark grey Stygian owl made a fly-by over the kitchen table, dropping a letter in front of him and vanishing through the owl hatch. Both Remus and Sirius was left with their mouths gaping.

“Did that...” Sirius blinked.

“I'm quite sure...” Remus tried.

“Who?”

“Have no idea...”

Sirius picked up a spoon and flipped the envelope over.

“That's Harry's handwriting.” Remus frowned, he'd recognise his pseudo nephew's writing any time of the day, he'd spent enough hours reading and sometimes trying to decipher the scrip.

“Think something have happened to Hedwig?” Sirius asked, using the spoon to push the letter towards Remus. Remus just rolled his eyes at his friend's antics and picked up the letter. It was muggle paper he realised. Opening it he started to read.

 

_Remus_

 

_Got the item we talked about examined earlier, turns out it was from my mum. It was a letter to me and some items she thought I should have in case she wouldn't be able to give them to me her self. Anyway, she wrote about some things that I'm not sure I've understood right. She wrote that I shouldn't let the burdens of my Lordship drag me down. What is she talking about? I'm not a lord, I'd like to think someone would have told me about that. But I don't want to think she is lying either. So you gotta help me out here, tell me what is going on?_

 

_Harry_

 

Remus felt something cold run down his spine. Dumbledore had told him that Harry had left the running of his estate to him, that he hadn't wanted to deal with it yet. He had thought it strange, especially after he started to teach Harry the patronus charm, that Harry didn't want to bother about his family legacy when he was obviously starved of information about his family. But there had never been an opportunity to talk about it.

“Well! What is it? What does our Prongslet say?” Sirius barked out, leaning over the table to snatch the letter. Remus let him and watched his friend closely as he eagerly devoured the words on the page. He watched as the eagerness melted away to confusion and then into anger. “What the hell?!” Sirius put down the letter and looked at him. “Harry didn't know? That's not possible! Dumbledore said...”

“That Harry didn't care about it yes.” Remus finished for his friend. “I know, I was told the same thing.”

“Damn...” Sirius put the letter down and smothed it out with his fingers. He didn't look up from it, Remus could see how his eyes scanned it over and over again. “I think you need to go shopping Remy. I'll give you a list of books, I'd take them from the library here, but who knows what lives in those pages...” There was a soft sigh from his friend. “And I think you should take him to Gringotts some day, once he'd had time to read through what you're buying him.” Remus made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat. “Damn it!” Sirius ran a hand through his shaggy mane, a look of desperation shining in his eyes for a brief moment. “I need to get my name cleared. Harry needs someone to help him with this, and as much as I hate to admit it, I was raised to know how to be a Lord...”

“Let's start with you giving me the list Siri.” Remus said gently. “One thing at a time.”

“Right.” His friend nodded, absently getting up from his chair, muttering book titles under his breath as he searched for parchment and quill.

 

§§§

 

Hermione Granger was lounging in the sun. Her mother had gotten a new patio set and the sun chair was just perfect in her opinion. She could easily sit and read, or with a small adjustment lay down and lie on her stomach and read. The parasol provided just enough shade for her to not need sunglasses. She didn't really care about getting a tan or such things, but her mother had insisted she'd get fresh air and sun after almost a year in a large stone castle in Scotland. So she had made a compromise, she promised to spend as much time as she could outside in the sun if she could read and do her homework outside. She had even let her mother buy her a bikini to wear. Apparently the more skin exposed to the sun, the better she would be able to absorb vitamin D or something like that. Honestly, Hermione hadn't paid much attention, she'd just wanted to get started on her summer homework.

And speaking of homework, it had only taken her a week to finish it all, although she would probably rewrite or make additions to it once she'd been to Diagon Alley and gotten her new course books, and any other books she could convince her parents to get her. Hermione had a bit of a dream, to have a house big enough to allow her to have a library. She had already started to collect the books. Smiling at the thought of how the room would look like, she took a long drink of her sugar free, home-made lemonade. The ice clinked against the glass and a warm gentle breeze glided through the garden. She could smell her mother's roses and geraniums and hear the bumblebees zooming back and forth, the hoots of the pigeons she ignored. It was summer bliss and she loved it. No stress, she could read to her heart's content, no one demanding her to quit reading and listen to inane gossip or nagging about this and that.

Her perfect summer afternoon was disturbed by a dusky coloured owl that landed on the side table and stuck it's beak into her lemonade. The letter it had been carrying had slid off the table and landed on the ground. Hermione was so surprised she was left staring at the owl as it drank it's fill and then flew up under the parasol and settled on one of the spokes, where it gave her a loud 'HOOOOT' before tucking it's head under it's wing and ignored her. Blinking, she bent down and picked up the letter, absently noting that it was a muggle envelope. Turning it around she saw it was addressed to 'Hermione Granger' and in an very familiar scrawl. Hermione glanced up at the owl then back down at the letter, it was clearly written by Harry, but last time she checked Hedwig was snow white and had way better manners than this owl. Confused, she opened the letter and gaped at the wad of paper she'd pulled out. There were at least five pages, writing on both sides, written on muggle notebook paper and most of it in a handwriting she didn't recognise. She separated out the page written in Harry's handwriting, hoping that there was some reasonable explanation to it all, and started to read.

 

_Hermione_

_Right, this might seem strange and random, but I've come across some information I think you would be most interested in. I promise to tell you how I found out when I next see you, I don't want to risk it in a letter. Even if Ran says that Artemis has ways of avoiding capture._

 

_I should probably start with who Ran is, I'm sure you've figured out who Artemis is. Ran and his fathers moved into a house a few streets from the Dursleys last week and I meet him at the park yesterday. Actually, that story is something I have to tell you face to face as well. Anyway, they moved her from Italy, but I'm not sure where they are from really. I know Ran's otosan (I think it's written this way) is Japanese, but his dad maybe sound Scandinavian? And before Italy they lived in Transylvania! Ran is cool though, and can you believe that they didn't know who I was? Nor did they know about the war._

 

_But back to the reason I'm writing, have you heard of something called a magical inheritance? I certainly didn't until a few hours ago. Ran gave me the basic of it and I've sort of made him write out all he knows about it for you. It is actually quite important and Ran says that all the other schools he's gone to have had this special class for muggleborns and muggle raised where they are taught things like the magical inheritance. It is something that happens on your 16 th birthday and since yours is this September I thought you might want to know as much as you could about it before then. So, just read what Ran have written for you and we can talk about it when I see you next. _

 

_I hope your summer is going great, mine is looking to be good now that I have Ran to talk to._

 

_Harry_

 

_P.S. Ran says Artemis can stay if you have any questions..._

 

Hermione gaped at the letter, she was having trouble believing what she had read. Magical Inheritance? In all her readings she had never come across something with that name and Harry wasn't telling how he came across it either. She was tempted to just write him a note demanding to know how he came across it and that he shouldn't believe everything he read. And how could he know that this Ran had told him the truth? Taking a deep breath, trying to calm her self down, she decided that she would read through what ever nonsense Harry had been provided with, if nothing else so she could have something to refer to when she was convincing Harry that it was nothing of the sort.

 

An hour later and Hermione didn't know what to believe any more. The article Ran had written was for all she could see factual and to the point, his reference list seemed genuine as did the book list he had provided her with. It helped with her confusion that he said she could confirm it all by going to St. Mungo's or Gringotts. It was almost as if he was daring her to prove him wrong. But it all sounded so fantastical, gaining magical creatures traits? Groaning she tried to figure out who she could ask, who she could write and get a straight answer back. But all she came up with was that she would have to go to Gringotts and ask them. She didn't know where St. Mungo's was so she couldn't go there and ask. Her first thought had been to write Dumbledore, but she didn't want to trouble him with such trivial matters during the break, she didn't want him to think that she couldn't work it out for her self. She was the brightest witch of her age after all! Sighing she picked up the papers and her book and headed indoors. She wanted to see if she couldn't make sense of it logically with the books she had in her room and she needed to come up with an angle that would make her parents let her go to London in the morning.

 

§§§

 

Sirius Black had for most of his life been running from the role his parents had groomed him for. He had never wanted the mantle of Lord Black, never wanted to be head of a _most_ noble and _most_ ancient house. The responsibilities was massive and so heavy it still felt like it was crushing him. But the thought of his godson, his fourteen years old godson, might possibly take up the mantle of his own family had made him think. True enough, the Potter family was _only_ an noble and ancient family, but Harry was fourteen! Sirius had run away from everything that could even resemble responsibility, he had run as far as he could in the other direction hoping that it would all just go away. And strangely it had seemed to work, he was never held accountable for anything he did, even the prank that could have killed Snape had been swept under the carpet. It seemed that nothing could touch him, he was free to do what he wanted and he had believed it, believed he had gotten away. Not even becoming Harry's godfather had opened his eyes, nothing was ever going to happen that would make him responsible for Harry and when it did, he'd bolted again. He had gone after Peter, excused him self with the need for revenge, thought that Alice Longbottom would take care of Harry, leaving him free to continue as he had.

But Harry hadn't gone to Alice and Frank, Harry had been given to Petunia and that had hurt. Sirius knew so perfectly well how Petunia felt about witches and wizards, how she felt about her sister. He was secretly glad that he hadn't known that while he was in Azkaban, he wasn't sure he actually would have survived if had known. The comment he had made to Harry about them living together had been made in the heat of the moment, but how relieved hadn't he been when it turned out he needed to run and this time with a legal reason? Once more had he dodged the bullet called responsibility. Even now he was doing it, running, trying to find a way to excuse him self from it.

Sirius slammed his fist into the wall, dust, wood splinters and plaster exploded around him, but he didn't notice. It was time he did right by his godson, it was time he listen to the magic that tied them together after the blessing, it was time he stopped running.

Reaching out with his now plaster covered, bleeding hand, he opened the door to his father's study, to Lord Black's study, and stepped over the threshold before he could manage to talk him self out of it. He strode over to the mantelpiece and pressed his left hand flat against the ornate carving of the Black Family crest and said loudly; “I, Sirius Orion Black, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, accept my Duty to Magic and Hecate. I AM LORD BLACK!”

 

§§§

 

Remus had just stepped through the floo but he hadn't landed where he had expected to land. He was not in the kitchen, where the floo was connected, no, he was in a dusty room with sheets covering the furniture. Dust lay heavy on the floor, like a thin grey carpet, but what confused him the most was the large obsidian crest that hung on the wall directly opposed the fireplace. A large raven with a sword and a wand in it's talons and the words 'Toujours Pur' underneath. Remus knew perfectly well what House the crest and motto belonged to, but he had never seen the room he was in now. What had happened to Grimauld Place?

“KREACHER!!” The sound of Sirius' bellowing sent tremors through the house, magic crackled in it's wake and Remus jumped in shock. What in the seven hells had happened?

 

It took him fifteen minutes to find Sirius, the whole layout of the house had changed, there were rooms he had never seen, he'd even ran into something that looked suspiciously like a large ballroom. But he had never thought he'd find his friend in the Lord's study, nor that said friend was threatening his elf with clothes if he so much as thought of betraying his lord again. And Sirius looked different too. He was still a bit gaunt and pale, but there was a new glow, a sense of strength and power in his posture that had never been there before. Even his hair looked better! Kreacher was on his knees, bowing scraping and snivelling, begging for forgiveness while Sirius was towering over him like a proverbial thunderstorm. It was then that Remus noticed the ring on his friend's left-hand ring finger and a grin spread on his lips. So Sirius had gone and claimed his birthright, and done it in a typical Sirius fashion. But Remus wasn't going to complain or berate Sirius, in fact, he wasn't sure if he were going to even mention it.

“Remus!” Remus chuckled as Sirius suddenly noticed him standing in the door way. “Eh, you done shopping already?”

“Yes, I got the books you listed and sent them to Harry. I even remembered to buy us two new mugs for tea.” He laughed at the somewhat sheepish look on his friend's face.

“Right! Right... don't actually think we need them any more. But it will be good to drink tea out of something that can contain more than three mouthfuls.” Sirius said distractedly. He frowned as his eyes landed back on the pitiful house elf. “Kreacher, just get started on cleaning the place.” Kreacher managed to choke out a few affirmative sounds before he popped away, presumably to do as he had been told. “Yeah, so I thought that if I was going to help Harry I ought to actually be a Lord my self. Sort of lead by example or something?” Sirius shrugged as he dumped down in the plush leather chair behind the desk. It creaked dangerously and a dust cloud rose to surround him.

Remus couldn't help him self any more, he laughed out loud and once Sirius could breathe without choking on the dust he too joined in.

 

§§§

 

It was again late before Harry went back to the Dursleys. But since Dudley weren't home yet, no one said a word about it, just 'Go to your room!'. Harry was more than happy to do so, thinking the old saying of 'out of sight, out of mind' was rather apt. Ran had given him a bag of owl feed to give to Hedwig and he wanted nothing more than to give it to her. She had been locked up in that cage for a week, only eating what Harry had managed to steal away. The conversation that had resulted in the bag of owl feed had been embarrassing but he had managed not to lie directly nor tell his new friend exactly what was going on.

Hedwig gave him a glare as he entered the room and he sighed as she turned her tail to him. He had guessed she would be cross with him, he hadn't spent any time with her the last two days and she probably thought it was unfair that she was locked up while he was out and about.

“I know Hedwig, but I got you some owl feed, so you won't have to eat bread scraps.” He held up and shook the bag gently but the owl kept on ignoring him. “Come on Hedwig, don't be that way. I'm sorry, but I don't want Vernon to hurt you.” Harry said softly as he filled the empty food bowl with the magically preserved parts of small mammals and cockerels chicks. Stuffing the bits and pieces through the bars he kept talking softly to her, telling her about his day. It worked to some degree as Hedwig turned to the bowl and started to eat. Harry smiled and hurried to fill her water bowl before Petunia locked him in for the night.

He kept talking softly to Hedwig as he got ready to go to bed, he'd thought about reading for a few hours before going to sleep, but the desk chair weren't really comfortable so he was going to sit on the bed. The sound of Dudley returning home had him scowling at the door, Dudley sounded drunk to him, but Petunia and Vernon just prattled on and on about how good their Dididums was and if he wouldn't like some more supper? It was probably half an hour later when the locks on his door were bolted and the rest of the house fell silent. Blissfully so, because Harry knew that it wouldn't be long before the sawmills started.

Sighing he whispered good night to Hedwig and was about to turn off his light when a soft tapping came from his window. Harry quickly got up and let the owl in, he didn't want Dudley or Vernon to hear the tapping. The owl landed gracefully on his desk, a large package tied to it's legs and he relieved it from it's burden as fast as he could. He was about to offer it some owl treats, but it flew off before he had a chance. Shrugging he tried to figure out who the package was from and his eyes widened slightly as he realised it was from Remus. Remus had written on the outside of the packing paper that it was from Moony and Pads for their cub. It made him smile though. The wrapping paper found it's way to the floor quite quickly and he picked up the note from Remus that lay atop the sizeable stack of books. Apparently Sirius had jumped on the idea of teaching him how to be a lord and all these books were going to help him become one. Or at least a compulsory read for anyone who were to be one.

So his mother had been right, he thought, shuffling through the books and reading the titles. He was a lord. How was a question he would have to save for later, when he could speak to Remus or Sirius face to face. There was a whole other set of questions he wanted to address as well, like how come no one had told him before, but those would also have to wait until later. For now he would try to read these books, dry as they all looked. 'Heirs and Spares' 'Etiquette, Ballrooms and Conversation, the Handbook of Polite Society' 'Negotiation and Contracts, for the Lord on the Rise' 'So You are a Lord, Now What' 'The Wizengamot and Politics'

 

§§§

 

Hermione stood at the back of a queue lining up to a goblin teller. It was early, she had caught the first train that morning for London even if it meant getting up at five thirty, and she had hoped that there wouldn't be many people at the bank. So she had been rather surprised at the amount of witches and wizards already queuing. In front of her stood a woman dressed in a sharp, but feminine, version of an Egyptian explorers suit from the eighteen nineties, she even had a leather doctors bag in one hand and a pith helmet tucked under the other arm.

Mentally shaking her head, Hermione tried to get back on track. She had spent most of last night trying to argument against Harry's idea of a magical inheritance, but in the end she had conceded that she needed more evidence. Her hope was that the goblins could give her the address of St. Mungo's as well as answer her questions so that she could go there next and get their answers as well. It never hurt to have a second opinion, especially since she didn't trust the goblins overly much. They had caused too much trouble over the centuries.

Finally the queue was moving again, only two more to go until it was her turn. Her palms were getting clammy and she regretted not taking her father up on the offer of having him come with her. She had never talked to a goblin before, it was always her parents that went inside to exchange money. It had sort of slipped her mind that she would be needing to interact with them at some point in her life. The woman in front of her was now at the teller and Hermione tried to listen in, hoping she could get some pointers on how to proceed.

“Master Goblin. I have an appointment with my account manager Master Eargit.” Hermione thought that she sounded Spanish or something, she did at least have an accent.

“Very well Madame Ishtar.” The goblin nodded at her before he barked for another goblin to escort the woman to her appointment. “Next!”

Hermione swallowed and stepped forwards. “Good morning.” She started, trying her best to sound as confident as she could. “I was wondering if there was a goblin I could speak to about magical inheritance.”

“That would be your account manager.” The goblin replied, giving her a look she didn't know how to interpret.

“I don't have one?” She was starting to get nervous.

“Muggleborn!” It snorted with a snarl, showing way to much sharp, pointed teeth. “Rotgut!” A smaller goblin came running up. “Take her to Karck!”

“This way!” Rotgut barked at her and Hermione jumped slightly at the sudden change. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and she most of all wanted to just run out of the bank and never step foot in it again. But she really wanted the answers and she hadn't even gotten to ask where St. Mungo's was, she was not getting back in a queue just for that. She did hope that this Karck would tell her. Rotgut was leading her through a veritable maze of corridors and none of the walls had any doors on them, it was starting to fray her already high strung nerves.

After what felt like forever they finally came to a door. There was a golden plaque on said door but she couldn't read what it said, it was written in letters she'd never seen before. Rotgut had opened it and was now talking to another goblin seated behind a large desk. Again she couldn't understand what they were saying, it sounded very harsh and short clipped to her ears.

“Go sit!” Rotgut was pointing at the wooden chair in front of the desk and she hadn't walked more than two steps inside the room before the door slammed shut behind her, trapping her in the room with the other goblin.

“Yes.” The goblin behind the desk, she could only assume this was Karck, gave her a pointed look and she sat down on the edge of the seat. Hermione had never felt so out of place or so out of her depth and she bitterly regretted not having done any research of how to interact with goblins before. All she knew about them came from her History of Magic classes, and knowing who started what rebellion by killing and or dismembering who was not perhaps the best indicator on how to talk to a goblin.

The goblin cleared his throat and she realised that if she didn't open her mouth and say something soon, she would get kicked out.

“I need to know about magical inheritances!” She blurted out, her cheeks burning from the blush on her face. This was it, any minute now the little goblin would be back to drag her out of the bank. She couldn't believe she had just asked a blood thirsty creature about that stupid joke that Harry had told her. It was all that new guy's fault, he had probably filled Harry's poor head with such nonsense ideas and Harry...

“Very well. As you are muggleborn there is only one you can get.” The goblin cut through her inner ramblings rather efficiently.

“What? It's true?” Hermione wanted nothing more than to slap her hands over her mouth, she had _not_ intended to blurt that out.

“Of course it's true.” He snorted, followed by something that sounded like 'ignorant muggleborn'.

“How? I mean even the creature stuff too?” That had been the most difficult thing for her to believe, that a human would want to marry and have children with a centaur, or a mermaid.

“Yes, even the so called creature stuff. I strongly suggest that you read The Muggleborn Guide to Magic. It should explain it best for you. Any other questions you might have should be taken up with your healer.” Hermione was having a difficult time wrapping her mind around it all, it had been a shock to read what Harry had sent her, but once she'd had time to think it through properly it had been clear to her it was a hoax. She had been dead set upon proving Harry's new friend wrong and to give Harry enough substantial proof to make him see the truth as well. But now it was her that had been proven wrong and that stung.

“Right,” She nodded to the goblin. “thank you for your time, I'll go get that book at once.”

“Good. You'll pay on your way out. Good day!” And with that the small goblin, Rotgut, was back to escort her out to the main hall of the bank. It hardly registered with her that she would need to pay for her time with Karck, there was too much buzzing in her head and she just hoped that Flourish and Blotts had the book.

 

The smell of the books inside Flourish and Blotts soothed her frayed nerves and frantic thoughts and it felt like she could breathe again and think. She allowed her self a few moments to just relax before she went to find a clerk that could help her. The book in question was hidden upstairs in a slightly dusty corner, far away from the normal traffic of the shop. Hermione had never been in that part, having preferred to pick out books from the ground floor and in the frequented parts of the shop. Books that 'everyone' read and thus would be common knowledge. It was a flaw she realised, as this wouldn't give her any insight in the more obscure or the more inherited knowledge of those raised in a wizarding household. And even if she knew how to navigate and pull information from the Hogwarts library, it didn't contain any books on subjects not taught. She had certainly never come across a book on household cleaning spells, but here she was, looking at a book with a bucket and a mop on the cover 'Mrs Ramsay's collection of Mess Removal Spells'. The thought of her own dream library was starting to shift, she didn't want it to be a copy of Hogwarts library any more, but perhaps more of a cross between Hogwarts, Flourish and Blotts and the public library at home. A place where all of her treasured books would be, with room for cooking books, fictional books and household books and anything else.

She loved to learn and she loved to read, why hadn't she been more curious of the more mundane aspects of magic? Like the specific spell for potion stains removal she was currently looking at. She did know that she couldn't use Scroungify to clean up a cauldron, the magic of the spell would linger to long in the metal for it to be used to brew potions with safely again. So she had therefore assumed that there weren't any other way than the manual way to clean anything related to potion making. But here was a spell designed to clean work tables in a potion lab. It was almost scary how narrow focused she had been, but now she knew better, or so she hoped. Placing 'Mrs Ramsay's' cleaning book on a nearby stool, she pulled out 'The Muggleborn's Guide to Magic' from the shelf and put it on top of the first one. It was time she did a bit more browsing in these somewhat dusty corners of the shop.

 

§§§

 

It had been three days since he'd sent Hermione the letter about magical inheritances, but he hadn't really had time or the brain power to think much about it. He had more than enough with trying to read the books Remus had sent him. Having Ran around had helped though, Ran didn't mind reading for hours at end, but neither did he mind taking breaks whenever Harry felt he needed one. The books had truly been dry and he'd only managed to finish one of them, 'So you're a Lord, Now What' and was trudging his way through 'Heirs and Spares'. Ran, who had readily admitted he knew nothing about Lordships of any kind, had jumped on the chance of learning more about it. So when Harry had showed up with five large books on the topic and a sheepish smile, his friend had just picked up the first in the stack and started to read.

Harry had also discovered what Ran's fathers did for a living, he had originally thought that Mr Storm was a stay-at-home dad, but he was a certified Healer with a speciality in Spell Damage and creature related injuries and Storm-san was a Ward Master who was currently working for Gringotts. Mr Storm weren't to start at St Mungo's until August when Storm-san started his vacation. When he had found out he had asked Ran what he wanted to do and Ran had just grinned and told him he was going to become an Artefacter. Mr Storm, who had seen Harry's confused look, explained to him that it was just a fancy word for an Enchanter. Ran had growled that it was  _not_ just a fancy word for Enchanter, he was  _not_ going to just sit there and enchant existing objects, he was going to create Artefacts.

“With dreams like that, he'll end up a desk clerk.” Mr Storm had dead panned to Harry with a wink and then fled the living room to escape his son's ire.

 

At the moment Harry and Ran were sitting on the grass in the back garden eating lunch. Mr Storm had made a pesto salad with toasted pine nuts and salmon, and Harry had to admit he had never eaten so healthily in his entire life as he had since he got to know Ran.

“So let me see if I've gotten it right.” Ran tapped his chin with his fork, an actual metal fork, Storm-san had unpacked the last kitchen boxes last night. “An old enchanted hat sorts you into one of the four houses when you are eleven? And that house then becomes your defining quality? Never mind that kids grow up, their personality evolves, priorities change.”

“Yes.” Harry sighed but smiled at his friend.

“Sounds fishy to me.” His friend was shaking his head, stabbing some poor salmon piece. “Not sure I want to be labelled like that, but I guess I got no choice.”

“What do you mean, no choice?” He frowned, not sure he was following where the conversation was headed.

“Otosan told me this morning, I'm going to Hogwarts this year.”

“You are?” Harry grinned widely. “That's great!” Now he wouldn't have to say good-bye to his friend when September came around. Ran chuckled and gave him a clearly amused look.

“Would you still say that if I get sorted into that snake house?”

“Of course! I know you're not evil or think muggleborns are less than dirt.” Harry scoffed, he couldn't understand how Ran could think that, weren't they friends?

“But didn't you say that everyone in that house is a blood purist and evil? Wouldn't that make me the same if I got sorted there?”

“It's not the same.” He huffed. “I know you, I know your parents. You don't want to kill off muggles, or torture them just because you can. You don't think you are superior to anyone else just because you can trace your family back generations.”

“And that is all it takes to be evil?” Ran asked looking strangely annoyed. “Listen Harry, I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, I think you're cool and interesting. It's just that there is real evil out there and labelling a quarter of the kids in your school evil isn't right. Do you honestly think that the first years, that are eleven mind, that get sorted into the snake house are capable of slaughtering babies without a thought to what they are doing? That they wouldn't think twice about disembowelling their parents just because the weren't given sweets before breakfast? Evil and hate isn't words that should be used carelessly. You say you hate it whenever people think they know you just because of your name, you hate that people make assumptions on who you are without bothering to get to know you, to talk to you. Don't you think everyone else deserves the same consideration that you want people to give you?”

Harry winced, when it was put on the spot like that it was easy to see he was wrong. But on the other side he couldn't forget everything that Malfoy and his cohorts had done over the years, all they had said and that their parents had been in the graveyard when Voldemort came back. He didn't know if he could afford to let his guard down when it came to the new batch of slytherins, he knew they would quite quickly be indoctrinated into the 'slytherin way' and from there it was a dead end, an end as a death eater.

“Artemis! About time you returned.” Ran laughed and pulled Harry out of his brooding thoughts. He couldn't help how his lips twitched upwards when Ran plucked a thick envelope out of his lunch. “I swear, the only one she delivers letters to properly is otosan.” The amusement on Harry's face turned into slight dismay when Ran handed him the envelope, now sporting green pesto stains, lettuce leaves and a bit of fish.

“It's from Hermione.” He made a face as he opened the letter, he didn't want to get pesto on her letter. Opening the folded pages he started to read. She was apologising for the late reply but apparently she had needed to do research. Then she briefly complained about the goblins and their rude ways, there had to be away that one could avoid being insulted at every turn. There was almost a page on how she had discovered branches of magic not taught at Hogwarts and that she had needed to edit her reading priority list. She did rant a bit on the fact that there weren't any classes she could take on those 'new' branches and that the massive amount of empty class rooms at Hogwarts had probably been used in the past for that. But 'Hogwarts, A History' didn't mention any other classes and as much as she didn't want to believe it, she suspected that her favourite book had been heavily edited in the latest printings.

Harry chuckled, Hermione had taken almost two and a half pages before she got to the subject she was replying to. It wasn't how her letters would usually go, but he thought that there had been much more going on in her head than usual during the summers. Those first pages had been almost ramble worthy. What followed those pages seemed almost like it was a discussion, she tried to pick apart everything Ran had written, only to end up confirming it by refuting her own arguments and backing that up with quotes from other books on the subject. It gave him a bit of a headache to read but it also pleased him to see that she was taking it so seriously. She ended with that although she could now believe that there was something called a magical inheritance, she still couldn't confirm, nor disprove the bit about 'creature inheritance'. She didn't have enough to go on, she needed more information and what she wanted the most was to pick the brain of someone who had this supposedly inheritance. But since she didn't, she was going to find out where St. Mungo's was so she could book an appointment with a healer she could ask.

“I think we may have created a monster.” He chuckled, it was almost like Spew all over again.

“How so?” Ran asked.

“She says that she can't refute the existence of a 'normal'” He made quotations marks with his fingers. “magical inheritance, but she needs more proof of the creature part before she can believe that. And that means more research. And believe me, she'll be on this like a niffler after shiny stuff.”

“Good.” Ran nodded. “I can respect someone who don't blindly believe everything they are told.”

Harry just nodded, wondering what Ran would say when he realised that Hermione had an almost blinding respect for authority figures and tended to quote books as if it was gospel. It could become an interesting year.

 

§§§

 

Kriminalkommissar Hubert Bauer didn't know if he wanted to believe what his eyes were telling him. The hotel suite was trashed, most likely beyond repair, they would never get the smell to go away. He could hear the first responder officers in the hallway puking, even after half an hour. The poor maid that had been sent to clean after the checkout had needed to be taken to the hospital, shock he believed. Not that he could fault her.

“Have the forensics gotten here yet?” He barked over his shoulder, he wanted to look away, but couldn't. The sight would haunt him till his dying day of that he was certain.

“ETA three minutes Sir!” One of his officers answered from the corridor.

“Get someone to meet them in the lobby, warn them!” He growled back. ' _Fucking pencil pushers_ ', he thought, knowing it was unfair on his subordinates, but at the moment he didn't care. A soft squelching sound reached his ears and he looked down. The carped under his shoes were soaked in deep red and he watched with increasing disbelief as it crept the last few centimetres towards the threshold. He backtracked half in panic out into the hall, leaving bright red shoe prints on the cream carpet. The other officers in the hallway looked at him in surprise, but thankfully none of them said anything, he would have demoted them if they had. He looked back into the suite and shuddered, what kinds of insanity made someone do something like this? For all intends and purpose it looked like a bomb had gone off in there, a bomb surrounded by people. But from what he could see there was too much blood and not enough body parts. In the middle of the room there was a wrought iron stand, rather simple in design, with a large, shallow basin resting on top. A few feet behind it was a rectangular cube covered in some kind of cloth. On top of the strangely lumpy surface stood two stone bowls and something that looked like a fat bladed dagger with a bone handle had been stuck upright in the middle. Above it a large oval mirror hung, it was framed with wrought iron made to look like thorny vines. Just about everything else in the room was covered in blood and every now and then a blood bubble would pop on the walls, a large syrupy drop would fall from the ceiling. 

“Scheisse!” A male voice had him looking away from the room to see that the forensic team had arrived. The three were all holding cloths in front of their noses and one of them were gagging. Hubert just nodded at them and indicated with a hand that it was all theirs. The one who had spoken turned his head to look inside and dropped the metal kit he had been holding. “Holy... “ He turned impossible large eyes to Hubert.

“I know.” He replied gruffly.

 

As much as Hubert wanted to just return to his office and wait for the forensic report he stayed, why he had no idea, but it seemed to keep everyone from freaking out. Albert Sweig, Jonas Schaefer and Daniela Eichmann, the forensic team, had been steadily moving through the suite, systematically collecting samples and taking pictures. They had been going for an hour now and were nearing the basin in the middle. No one had said much of anything, not after Jonas had thrown up into an evidence bag, the blood on the floor was not behaving like blood, clinging to their rubber boots at every step.

Daniela had been taking photos of the 'altar' when she put her camera away and slowly crouched down, lifting the cloth. Her terrified scream echoed through the hallway and everything happened so fast. She scuttled backwards, falling on her back into the viscous blood, Jonas rushing over to help her up but he slipped and bumped into the basin, tipping it over. They had thought the basin empty, but black, oily and dense smoke oozed onto the floor, like dry ice smoke. It rolled towards Albert, growing with each second. Hubert saw it as if in slow motion, how the smoke reached Albert, how it oozed up over his legs, his torso... until he no longer could see him. But he could hear him, even over Daniela's screams, he could hear Albert. The sound was inhumane, it was pure terror. It conjured up images of unthinkable torment, never ending horror. Then the mirror shattered and Hubert could only watch as Jonas was perforated with shards and how Daniela, who were desperately scrambling towards the door, was hit in the back, two large shards embedding them selves in her neck, severing the spinal cord. And Albert was gone, there was no trance of him or the oily, black smoke.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new Chapter for you all, hope you enjoy... still unbetaed I'm afraid.  
> Standard disclaimer; I own nothing, make no money off this. It all belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates.

 

III

 

Sirius Black was seated behind his desk tapping the butt of his wand against the polished wooden surface. Yesterday he had gotten a letter from Dumbledore asking to use Grimauld Place as headquarters for the order. The old man would even ensure their security by placing the townhouse under the Fidelius charm with him self as secret keeper. It was all a sack of hippogriff dung. Sirius wouldn't let the man touch the wards with a ten-foot pole. He remembered clearly who had cast the Fidelius on Godric's Hollow, who knew he was the secret keeper for James and Lily and he would sooner join Voldemort than do as the Headmaster was demanding. 

It was amazing what being connected to his family magic had done to him, his mind was clear for the first time in a very long time, he could sleep for more than a few hours without nightmares, his appetite were back, he was gaining weight...the list went on. But the most amazing thing had been the magic, how much more easily it flowed through him. He had never felt it so intensely and there was so much of it! Never had he once thought that by accepting him self as a part of the House of Black that he would feel so complete. He still didn't care for the politics that his House had come to stand for, but that was now up to him to change. The House of Black would rise from it's own ashes and once more be a House to be reckoned with.

But he couldn't achieve all that by being a fugitive from the law. He needed to clear his name and it had to be done soon. Not only so he could restore his House, but he needed to help his godson take care of his own House. Ever since the letter from Harry he had worked on getting things straightened out. He had gotten Remus to help him get to Gringotts to see the Black account manager. The Goblins didn't care what the ministry thought, they had their own laws and since the bank was on Goblin territory, by the use of some rather clever location spells, they wouldn't hand him over to the British ministry. The first thing that he had done was to prove his Lordship and then asked for a complete physical and mental screening by goblin healers. It had cost him somewhere around two-thousand galleons, but it was money well spent. He now had papers declaring him healthy and hale. After that he had paid for authentication of a few memories and for Gringotts to have them delivered to Madam Bones of the DMLE. He hoped that those memories would be enough to start the ball rolling on his trial. Then he had spent several hours with Sharpaxe, his account manager, going through the essentials of the accounts and had returned home with more parchment work than he thought he would be able to go through in the next year.

Which was why he had spend most of his time in his study in the last few days, trying to get caught up on the mess everything had descended into and praying that Harry's accounts and business weren't as bad as his. Although, he supposed, Harry would need more time than him, the poor lad didn't know anything about what to do. He just hoped Harry would study the books he'd sent him, it would make things much easier when they started.

And speaking of Harry. Sirius need to get his godson out from under the Dursleys. He didn't know what deal Dumbledore had made with them, but somehow he would get custody from them. Remus was worried that they weren't good for Harry, that they didn't take proper care of him and if Remus was worried, he was doubly so. His ultimate goal was to get complete custody of Harry, but for that he needed to clear his name.

 

§§§

 

Amelia Bones considered her self to be a woman who knew right from wrong, a woman who went to great lengths to see justice served and a woman more or less free of prejudice. This belief had been seriously tested the afternoon she had received a package from Gringotts containing two vials of memory, a certificate of authenticity from the goblins and a note from Lord Black or more commonly known as Sirius Black. It had been all she had been able to do, trying to keep her self from storming the bank and demanding answers to why a wanted mass murderer hadn't been handed over to the DMLE the moment he had shown his face. Only the knowledge of what the goblins would have done in retaliation for such an action had stopped her. She hadn't wanted to watch the memories, hadn't wanted to acknowledge the fact that the goblins had verified that the memories were genuine. Sirius Black had been judged and sentenced to life in Azkaban and rightly so. Except that according to Black, he had never been given a trial and that he was innocent.

It had taken her a few days of being grumpy and argumentative with her self before she took a look at the memories. And boy had those been a doozy! Amelia had needed three cups of strong black tea before her brain finally caught up and then her first thought had been to start ordering a complete re-evaluation of of the case. But she hadn't done that, she had realised that she would need to be discreet about it, there were certain persons that couldn't get wind of this, on both sides. So she had made list of the best aurors in the department and started to narrow it down. She crossed out those she knew were close to the persons she didn't want to get wind of the case, then she crossed out those that might not be able to be objective enough for the job. In the end she was left with only one name and that name wasn't even someone on the pay roll. 

 

A knock on her door pulled Amelia back to the present. She was taking a bit of a chance here, but she hoped it would pay off. Her secretary stuck her head around the door.

“Your nine o'clock is here.” She smiled and when Amelia nodded her head back she opened the door further and let the other person in.

“Remember Sarah, no interruptions what so ever.” She reminded the older woman, who just smiled and nodded back before she closed the door. Once they were alone, Amelia warded the room against anyone who wanted to listen in.

“So Amelia,” His voice were gruffer than before, but she guessed that one didn't spend a year in the bottom of a trunk without going through some changes. And it was those changes that she hoped wouldn't keep him from accepting her offer. “what is this secrecy about?”

“Alastor, it is good to see you on the mend. I have an offer to discuss with you. One that I hope you will take. But I need you to take a look at these memories first. They have been authenticated by Gringotts as genuine and not tempered with.” She motioned towards the pensieve on her desk. Alastor gave her a suspicious look with his good eye, the other was focused on the stone basin. Amelia kept her face impassive and in the end he grunted and moved to the pensieve, bending over and submerging him self in the memory. While she waited for her friend to emerge, she poured her self a cup of tea and read over her papers again.

“Interesting.” Was all Alastor said once he emerged and had sat down again.

“Yes, I thought so my self.” She nodded.

“And I'm guessing you want me to investigate?” He grumbled.

“Yes. You'll be on a consultant contract, answerable only to me. I want to know if this is true, I want evidence of it all and I want to prove that there were no trial. I want justice! If in the end it turns out he is guilty I can at least sleep well knowing it has been done right. If he isn't guilty, I want those responsible.” Amelia said handing over the contract. Alastor took his time reading it through and she topped up her tea while she waited.

“Those memories all you have to go on?” He asked as he put down the parchment.

“Yes,” She nodded. “I couldn't risk digging in case someone took notice.”

“And you think I'm any less likely to be taken notice of?” His chuckle was grating.

“You are a retired auror, known for having gone around the bend. People respect you, but they won't think you're up to something. They will just assume you are being paranoid and overly cautious.” Amelia replied, leaning back in her chair. Alastor grunted and picked up a quill, signing the contract. “I hope you remember how to use an Aetherwriter.”

 

§§§

 

“So how did it go?” Remus asked his friend as he sat down in his seat at the dining table. The house had gone through some remarkable changes in the last few weeks. Kreacher had been cleaning just about non stop since Sirius had taken up his mantle as Lord Black and it showed. Remus hadn't known just how much the magic had been fighting them until it stopped and started working with them. The dark oppressive feeling was gone, daylight shone through crystal clear windows and every surface shone.

“I'm famished and in need of more than eight hours of sleep.” His friend groaned. “But I fixed it.” Kreacher appeared in that moment, serving first Sirius then Remus the first course, a tomato and basil soup. “The wards are up to date, I removed some that I didn't agree with and strengthened the rest. We're perfectly fine. No one is coming in that I don't want here.” 

Remus just smiled at him, it had taken his friend most of the day to work on the wards and the ward stone.

“You should head up to bed once you've done eating.”

“Yes dear.” Sirius smirked, diving into his soup with gusto. It only took a moment after the last of the soup had been eaten before Kreacher was there to replace the bowls with plates of Chicken Cordon Bleu and summer vegetables. They continued to eat in comfortable silence until the desert was served.

“So have you replied to Dumbledore yet?” He asked.

“No, I wanted to get the wards fixed first. Then he can't barge in and force us.” Sirius snorted.

“Just make sure Kreacher gets rid of the Howler the moment it arrives. Otherwise I'm afraid even the neighbours are going to hear it.” Remus smirked, trying to make light of the topic.

“Dumbledore can stick his opinions where the sun don't shine.” Was the grumbled reply and Remus sighed quietly. He did understand where Sirius was coming from, but still he felt that the old Headmaster was doing something right. At least he was doing something. “Please, don't get started Remus. I'm not hosting the old goat or his flock of budgies. I want nothing to do with them. I got enough on my plate trying to get my House back on it's feet, getting my name cleared and full custody of Harry. Nothing or no one is going to stop me from that and the old goat don't want Harry away from the Dursleys or out from under his own thumb.”

“And what about the slight problem of You-Know-Who?” Remus asked pointedly, wanting his friend to understand that a Dark Lord would be a problem to his plans.

“I won't be able to do anything about Morty or be a help in the war if I'm locked in my own home. If I can get my House back up, I can make a whole lot of neutral Houses pay attention. I intend to fight Remy, but I won't do it Dumbledore's way.”

Again Remus could only sigh quietly and nod. Dumbledore had always been kind and generous to him, giving him opportunities no one else was willing to do. It did make him feel like he owed the man his loyalty and in a way he had always been in the Headmaster's corner, it was only recently that he had begun to see that there might not be everyone who thought the same.

“Alright Pads. Do it your way.” He gave his friend a weak smile. Sirius just nodded once, drained his glass of water and got up from his seat.

“You taking Harry to Gringotts the next time you are on duty?” He asked and Remus nodded back.

“Yes, not sure when that'll be though. I'll be going Ireland tomorrow, trying to talk to some of their werewolf clans, so it'll probably be after that.”

“Right, just get him there before he goes back to Hogwarts. I want him to take the Lineage test.”

“Why?” Remus couldn't quite fathom why Sirius wanted Harry to take it. It wasn't like there was any doubt about it parentage.

“Because, Remy, he'll be sixteen next summer and I want him to be as prepared as he can be for what might happen then.”

“I know he will be sixteen next summer and nothing out of the ordinary happened to James on his sixteenth birthday. There shouldn't be any reason to expect anything to happen to Harry.” He shook his head wondering if Sirius hadn't spent too much time with parchment work and his family history lately.

“Just do it Remus. It isn't your place, nor mine to know what is in his Family Legacy, but it is _our_ responsibility to make sure he is prepared for the eventualities, what ever they might be.” The look on Sirius' face made Remus blink, it was almost scary how serious he was and it felt like he had been reprimanded. It made him realise that his friend had grown up, had become a responsible man and a Lord of an Most Ancient and Most Noble House.

“Right, you're right. Sorry Pads.” He blushed. And he was, sorry that he hadn't noticed the change in his best friend, sorry that he had just assumed it was all the old Sirius wanting to screw the people in charge. Maybe it was time that he too 'grew up' so to speak, to leave the past in the past and make decisions based on the present.

 

§§§

 

It was nine o'clock and Harry was anxiously waiting for Remus at the end of Privet Drive. He had gotten a letter a few days ago from the werewolf stating that they were going to Gringotts and that he was to wait for him at the end of the street at nine. There was also something about dressing as nicely as he could and he understood that, according to the books he had spent the last few weeks reading it was important to dress appropriately. The problem was of course that he didn't own any clothes that weren't Dudley's cast-offs or his school uniform. And if he had gone down to make and serve breakfast in his uniform Petunia would have been suspicious. So he had dressed as best as he could in Dudley's old clothes. It wouldn't make a great impression but it was all he had and could get away with. And quite frankly, it was starting to annoy him. Before he hadn't really cared and Ron's insecurities about fancy clothes had sort of solidified his beliefs about it, but now he was starting to question that. Why shouldn't he at least have clothes that fit? He remembered the first weekend at Hogwarts, he had gone down from the dormitories in his uniform and Ron had made a comment about it. Something about not wearing school clothes more than necessary. And Ron always changed out of his as soon as dinner was over, said he didn't care for the overly poncey clothes. So Harry, who hadn't wanted to dress in his overly large and worn clothes, had felt like he didn't have a choice and Ron had seemed so pleased after he had changed.

“Harry?” Remus' voice pulled him back to the present and he grinned widely at the man.

“Sorry, just thinking Remus.” He replied.

“Ready to go then?” Remus asked, smiling warmly at him.

“Yeah, how do we get there?” He was curious, there weren't a floo nearby as far as he knew, he didn't know how to apparate, portkeys had to be ordered or made illegally and that would only leave the Knight Bus, a mode of transportation he was not overly fond of. As far as he was concerned no sane person would willingly take it, all the others were just as nauseating, but they were quicker.

“I was thinking we'd take the Knight Bus.”

“I was afraid you'd say that.” Harry groaned and shook his head. “No chance we might take the train or something?”

“Sorry, we got an appointment with your account manager and I don't know how long it would take us by muggle means.” Remus did sound apologetic and Harry sighed.

“Okay, the Knight Bus it is. But if I throw up or break my arm I'm blaming you.”

Remus just smiled at him and shot out his arm. There was a loud bang and the huge triple-decker, purple bus screeched to a halt next to them.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded... Oy! Neville!” Harry gritted his teeth and forced a smile onto his lips. That was going to haunt him for the rest of his life, he just knew it, he would forever be Neville to Stan Shunpike. “'Ow are ya?”

“I'm fine.” He started, but Remus interupted him.

“Sorry, but we need to get to Diagon Alley rather quickly.” Remus gently pushed Harry inside and dropped two galleons in Stan's hand.

“Righty-o.” Stan gave a sort of salute and closed the door. Harry hurried to find a seat before the bus started moving.

 

The bus ride had been just as awful as he had expected and he could already feel the bruises starting to form on his forearms. Remus' extra tip had gotten them off after only just one hour and Harry had never been happier for the half a toast that Petunia had deemed a good enough breakfast for him. He expected that had he eaten more he would have puked. The trip through The Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley was quick, Remus moving them efficiently through the crowds and in no time were they standing in line at the bank. Harry had always found the goblins interesting, they were the first non humans he had encountered and while they certainly were fearsome, he couldn't help but respect their struggle against witches and wizards. He too found that they tended to be a bit narrow minded and convinced that they were on the top of the food chain.

The queue moved slowly and Harry tried to use the time to make his hair behave, not that it mattered, it never did do as he wanted. As it became their turn he stepped forwards thinking that there were no better time to try to utilise what he had learned of etiquette in the last weeks.

“Good day Master goblin.” He bowed slightly, not taking his eyes off the teller. “I have an appointment with my account manager.” The goblin spent a long time glaring at him and Harry was starting to worry that he had missed a phrase or miss-spoken one. It was making him sweat slightly and when the goblin nodded and called for someone to escort them he nearly blew out an explosive breath.

 

They had been led through a maze like corridor before they had arrived at a door with a plaque Harry couldn't read, it looked like someone had taken a set of sharp claws and raked it over the gold in a rather haphazardly way. He made a mental note to ask Remus about it later, now was not the time as they were ushered into a large office. Straight ahead of them sat a goblin of unrecognisable age behind a large oak desk, two wooden chair with high backs and padded with decorated leather were in front of the desk. Harry knew that the leather had a specific name, but he couldn't quite remember it. Cuir de Concordre or something that sounded like that. Petunia had a chair in the hallway that she claimed to be a genuine medieval antique and Harry had polished the leather on that chair enough times to know that it wasn't.

The goblin gestured for them to take their seats and Harry took a chance to bow to the goblin before he seated him self.

“Good day Master goblin. Thank you for your time.” Once again the goblin spent what felt like an unhealthy amount of time glaring at him before he let it go and Harry promised him self that he'd look up on the proper ways of greeting goblins again.

“I am surprised at the request for this meeting, we had been told by your magical guardian that you had no interest in managing your family affairs and since we do not allow stewards to handle it without the head of house's orders we could not let Headmaster Dumbledore take over the position as Steward.”

Harry was so shocked he didn't know what to say or where to begin. Dumbledore had told them he didn't care for his own affairs? And then thought to take over for him? The nerve of the man! How could he care about his accounts or affairs if he didn't know about it? And Dumbledore had known, but hadn't bothered to tell him. Anger was starting to surge through him, first he'd found out about Mrs Figg and now this. It was starting to tear down an already fraying opinion of a man he had once thought of as a quasi grandfather figure.

“We apologise Master Bloodtooth.” Remus said gently. “One might say that there have been a few misunderstandings going on, except that there weren't. Harry was never told of his place in our society and those of us that would have told him were told to not bother him about it, that he didn't want anything to do with it.” Harry had turned to look sharply at the werewolf when he heard the word misunderstandings and he was just about to tell him what he thought about that when he heard the rest.

“You knew!” He gasped. “You knew and didn't bother to tell me?!” That hurt, that the people his father thought of as best friends hadn't bothered to tell him such things.

“We were told by Dumbledore that you didn't care, that you had enough on your plate with school. We were even forbidden to talk to you about it, that it would only place unneeded stress on your shoulders.” Remus sighed and Harry grimaced, everything was so fucked up.

“Fine! Just, can we do what we came here to do and just agree never to trust what someone else tells us without checking with the other first?” He asked, looking at the goblin first then Remus. Both of them nodded and he sighed. “So now what? I'm guessing there are parchment work to comb through and stuff like that?”

“First Mr Potter, we verify your identity.” Bloodtooth said, putting a small crystal bowl on the desk in front of Harry and a small silver blade. “Three drops of blood into that bowl.”

Harry swallowed, he did  _not_ like having to give blood for anything after what happened in the graveyard. It was only roughly a month ago and despite the lessening frequency of his nightmares, he still had them. Steeling him self he grabbed the small blade and nicked his finger, letting the required three drops fall into the bowl. He was about to stick his finger into his mouth when Remus took his hand and healed the small cut with a wave of his wand. It was convenient to have a legal adult around sometimes. At least one who could do magic. 

“It seems Mr Potter that you have been verified.” Harry looked back at the goblin and then to the bowl, a ring was laying in it, the blood gone.

“What happened to the blood?” He asked, his mind about to go haywire with ideas.

“Not to worry, the magic in the bowl consumes it.” Bloodtooth explained, nudging the bowl closer to Harry. Relief settled in him at the answer and he leaned forwards, picking up the ring. It was made of white gold or silver, Harry didn't know how to tell the difference, and had three rectangle shaped, bright blue stones set into the band. There were some tiny etchings between and on the outside of the gems but he couldn't make out what it was.

“Put it on Harry.” Remus whispered to him, giving him a gentle smile. Harry just nodded absently, there was something about the ring that called to him, as if there was something inside him that wanted to reach out and connect, reconnect? It made no sense, he had never come across something like it before, but it didn't feel bad, just strange. Gathering his courage, he slipped the ring onto his right hand ring finger. The ring was to big, but once it was on it shrunk, sizing it self to his finger and a rush of magic flowed through him. Warmth, gentle and comfortable, settled in his belly, and he had a surreal feeling of coming home.

“And now Heir Thane Potter, we can begin.” Bloodtooth's voice penetrated the wonderment that had settled around him like a haze and Harry realised he was grinning stupidly. Taking control of his facial expressions once more, he sat up straighter and focused.

“Right, sorry about that. What did you call me?”

“Heir Thane Potter.” The goblin replied and Harry glanced at Remus, realising he was looking as puzzled as he felt. “It is your title, when you are seventeen and able to take up your position as the head of your House you will be Thane Hadrian James Potter of the Ancient and Noble House Potter”

“Wow...” Harry mumbled, a bit shocked. “I still don't get Thane though.”

“That is to do with when your lineage started. Seven hundred and fifty four was the year of birth for the wizard who came to be the first of your House, Aerlendr the potterer. His grandchildren became knights of their king and the oldest of his great grandchildren were given the highest rank apart from the king him self, that of Thegn. The word have morphed a bit during the years and it was shortly after the Statute of Secrecy that Houses originating from that era were given the overall title of Thane.” Bloodtooth explained gruffly.

“Thanks.” Harry nodded, trying to keep him self from asking any more questions that didn't strictly have anything to do with his accounts.

“If we can _then_ begin?” His account manager tapped a huge stack of parchment impatiently with a clawed finger.

 

Four and a half hours later and Harry had realised he was in deep waters. It was one thing that nothing had happened since his grandfather had died, his father hadn't taken time to update the accounts or anything, but the fact that he was supposed to understand all the numbers and terms... It was perhaps lucky that there weren't much to manage family wise, he was the only one left, but it also meant that it was all on him. His head was swimming in information and he longed for a nice cool and dark room, where he could reorganise his thoughts, make heads and tails of it all.

“I would strongly advise you not to leave it too long before you start to move forwards Heir Thane Potter.” Bloodtooth said sternly and Harry swallowed.

“I understand.” He nodded meekly, wonder how he was supposed to be able to learn it all. In five weeks he would be back at Hogwarts and he had no doubt that he would have more than enough with trying to keep up with his school work. But he had chosen this, he might not have known what it had entailed, but he would prove to them all that he could do it. He _would_ do it. This was his family legacy and he would be damned before he let thirteen hundred years of work go down the drain.

“If that is all?” Bloodtooth asked, probably thinking he had given Harry enough to work with for the time being.

“Yes, Harry's Godfather requested that Harry take the Lineage Test.” Remus spoke up.

“Hmmm, yes I suppose that would be prudent. Heir Thane Potter have none to prepare him for the Lineage secrets that might occur. It would be wise for him to know and be able to prepare on his own.” The goblin nodded as he got up from his chair and walked over to a large cabinet.

“What's a Lineage Test?” Harry asked, starting to get mighty fed up with all the sprung information.

“It's a test that will show you the different bloods in your lineage.” Remus smiled. “In almost a year you will have something that is called a Magical Inheritance...”

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, happy that he knew what was being talked about. “I know what that is!”

“You know?” Remus was frowning at him now but Harry didn't care.

“Yeah, my friend Ran told me about it and then we wrote a letter to Hermione telling her all we knew. After all, she'll be sixteen in September. I can't believe that no one at Hogwarts have told us anything about it before.” He was scowling at the end, it still rankled.

“Ran?” The werewolf asked before his face cleared in understanding. “Ah, the Storm boy.”

“I'm afraid you need to wait for Heir Thane Potter outside Mr Lupin.” Bloodtooth cut in. “Family secrets are for family only.” Remus didn't look happy, but nodded none the less and he gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he headed out of the office. Harry watched as Bloodtooth placed a piece of gilded parchment in front of him and a long, thin black quill. “Please write your full name, including titles on the top of the parchment.” His account manager instructed as he pressed a claw against a rune on his desk. A gentle hum came from the walls and the door and Harry looked at the goblin in surprise. “Full security measures are required for this, none but you or any other Potter may be told. I, as your account manager are under strict oaths to not divulge any of this information to anyone, on pain of my life.”

“Why? I'm guessing this will show me what creature blood is in my family, but why is that such a secret.” Harry really didn't understand it, he thought that witches and wizards regarded those with such blood quite high.

“It has all to do with the muggleborns I'm afraid.” Bloodtooth sighed. “A few hundred years ago civil war ruled Magical Britain. Muggleborns were hunting down and killing anyone with inhuman blood. Quite a few families were lost to us during those years. The muggleborns felt that anyone with more than human blood were nothing more than creatures and threat to them all.”

“Oh.” It was all he could say, it felt like he'd been sucker punched. The notion that muggleborns had been the source of and instigators of a war, it was hard to fathom and he didn't know how Hermione would take it if she found out. A rhythmic tapping pulled him out of his thoughts and he realised he needed to finish with the test. Quickly he picked up the quill and looked for an ink pot, but Bloodtooth were tapping a claw on the top of the parchment so he figured that it might be self inking. It wasn't until he had started writing that he noticed a sharp pain in his left hand, but he pushed it away and finished writing. When he looked at his hand after, he noticed faint red lines on the back of it, spelling out his full name and title. But the lines vanished as he looked at them and he decided to ask about the quill later, there was nothing wrong with his hand after all. Shrugging it off he looked back at the parchment, his eyes widening as he read the list.

 

_Heir Thane Hadrian James Potter_

 

_High Dragon_

_Naga_

_Satyr_

_Eldar_

 

He had sort of expected the Naga from what his mother told him in her letter, but the rest? How did one marry and have children with a dragon? Satyrs were at least as far as he knew humanoid but he had no idea what an Eldar was.

“Memorise the possibilities Heir Thane Potter.” Bloodtooth said. “I need to destroy the parchment before you leave.”

“Right, but how am I to find any information on these... um, races?” He asked thinking he didn't want to walk in to Flourish and Blotts and ask for books on them.

“I would suggest to read the vault information. There should be books on the topics. You can then request they be brought to you.”

“Okay, right.” He nodded. “I'll make sure to do that.” Taking a deep breath he leaned back into his chair wondering how this was going to change his life and realising that even without Voldemort, this would be his life. Maybe not so much a sudden need to learn it all in one go, but this inheritance would have come no matter what. It was strangely a comforting thought. Smiling softly to him self he stood up and bowed to the goblin. “Thank you for your time today Master Bloodtooth.”

“It was a meeting long overdue Heir Thane Potter.” Bloodtooth nodded and gestured at the burning fireplace to the side. “Please, dispose off the parchment.” Harry did as requested and once the soft humming in the room had gone he walked out of the office to join Remus.

 

§§§

 

“How did it go?” Sirius asked his best friend the moment he came through the floo. He had been some what anxious the whole day and the longer it took for Remus to return the more Sirius had worried.

“It went well.” Remus smiled as he removed his outer robe and gave it to Kreacher. “Harry seemed to handle him self well, despite the overwhelming amount of information piled on him.”

Sirius snorted and shook his head, he had no doubt that his godson was used to such things as being buried in a sudden influx of knowledge that need to be assimilated. He would give him a week or so to get it sorted in his head before he started piling more on the poor boy.

“And the Legacy Test?”

“Bloodtooth, the Potter account manager threw me out of the office before he would let Harry take it, so I can only assume it was done.” Remus seemed a bit miffed at that, but it was no surprise for Sirius. The blood legacies were closely guarded and he him self knew of only one possibility for Harry, naga. He had found out about that purely by chance and despite Lily swearing him to secrecy about it, he had tried to help her as best as he could.

“Well, we old pureblood families tend to become a bit paranoid about or secrets as the centuries go by.” He gave Remus an apologetic smile. Remus just rolled his eyes at him, but he was smiling again so it was all good.

“And how goes the silent war against Dumbledore and his order?”

“You should be the expert on that, Remy.” He chuckled. “You're the one on both sides.”

“Yes, well, the Burrow can't accommodate all at the same time, especially now that the kids are home for the summer. And last meeting I left before Dumbledore could get me alone after the meeting was over.” Remus looked remarkably cute as a sheepish werewolf Sirius thought.

“Ah, the fear of being cornered by twinkling blue eyes.” He nodded, keeping his face serious. “I do understand, Remus old chap.”

“More like the fear of Mrs Weasley.” His best friend dead-panned.

“Yes, yes. Of course. Never underestimate the torment her wooden spoon.” It was getting harder and harder to stay serious.

“Prat.”

“Prefect.”

“Lap dog.”

“That was one time! One time!” Sirius exclaimed, feeling his face flush bright red. It didn't get any better with Remus laughing either. “Just keep on laughing Remy, see if I'll share my plan for Harry with you.” He grumbled.

“What plan for Harry?” Remus asked, suddenly serious.

“My plan to get Harry to stay with us before school starts.” He replied smugly. Wanting to keep his friend hanging a bit more, he sat down in a comfy chair and ordered tea from Kreacher. The gentlemen's parlour had become his favourite room. It was a masculine room with dark wooden panelling, heavy velvet drapes in dark red and comfortable dark leather furniture. During the day it was flooded with natural light due to the tall windows on one wall and during the evening it was lit warmly from the decorative golden wall scones, the smaller fireplace and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Kreacher appeared rather promptly with tea, scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream and Sirius poured them both a cup, added a dash of cream and a spoon of sugar to his own. Once his tea was to his liking he sat back in his chair and smirked at his friend. Remus hurried to fix his own tea before he levelled Sirius a pointed look.

“Well then, spit it out Pads!” His friend just about growled.

“I've written dear Petunia a letter, explaining that as Harry's godfather I have a right to see my godson regularly, and since Harry attends a boarding school I will be claiming three weeks each summer. Starting the ninth of August. I will of course see Harry off to school although they are welcome to join us at the train station to say god bye and I will make sure Harry gets his school supplies. And I signed it Lord Sirius Black, twentieth Duke of Suffolk.” He smirked, taking a sip of his tea.

“How the hell did you manage to get a muggle title?” Remus exclaimed.

“Oh that.” He shrugged, but on the inside Sirius was cackling with glee. “It all started in the fourteenth century I think when the Black Price were given the title of Duke of Cornwall. He should be on the tapestry somewhere. Anyway, he was actually a squib, his mother the sister of the current lord Black. But that title continued into the muggle royal family. It was his son that gave his great uncle the title of Duke of Suffolk when he became king and we're held it ever since.”

“Merlin's balls.” Remus sighed and shook his head. “Petunia is going to implode. She won't know what to do, swoon over a Duke or be terrified of a mass murderer.”

“I know, delightful isn't it?” Sirius smirked.

“And how do you plan to keep Dumbledore from finding out? He won't let Harry come if he gets wind of it.” His friend was frowning now.

“Easy, Petunia won't tell him, she loathes the man. I'll write to Harry and explain, so he won't be telling anyone. And I'll give Harry a Black portkey for his birthday, he can use that to come here.”

“And what will happen when the Order members on guard duty don't seen him going out any more? Dumbledore will launch a search party.” Remus looked sceptical and Sirius couldn't blame him, it was a valid point.

“All taken care of.” He smirked. “Vernon and Petunia will be going to Paris on a business trip. Remember Armand? My French cousin?”

“What? The bloke from James' stag-party? He who provided all the booze?”

“The very same.” Sirius nodded as he spread jam on a scone. “He'll be having fun making Dursley senior jump through hoops to get the contract only to be let down at the end.”

“And just how..., no wait, I don't want to know how.” Remus groaned. “So with the Dursleys out of the house, in fact out of the country, the Order guards won't think much of it.”

“Excatement!” He grinned, lifting his scone in a toast.

 

§§§

 

Hermione was ready to tear her hair out, usually by this time Hedwig had come by to make sure she had a chance to get Harry something for his birthday, but this year she had been so absorbed in her extra studying that she hadn't noticed the date. Harry's birthday was in two days and no Hedwig had showed up. It was now too late for her to owl-order anything and besides, she had no owl to order anything with. She really should have gotten an owl two years ago. Not to say that she regretted getting Crookshanks, but it really hit home the fact that she needed an owl. And she needed to get Harry a birthday present. Taking a deep breath she got up from her desk chair and headed downstairs.

 

She found her father watching the evening news and was about to open her mouth to talk to him when she heard what was being said.

“The body of Hubert Bauer was found today in his own home in Hamburg. Mr Bauer was the supervising officer investigating the gruesome murders at the Hotel Atlantic Kempinski. In the last fourteen days all members of Mr Bauer's investigation team have been found dead, all supposedly suicides, but the note left by Mr Bauer suggests otherwise. The Bundespolizei, Germany's federal police are investigating the incidents as suspicious. According to BPOL, Mr Bauer had originally labelled the Hotel murders as ritualistic and the works of some sort of cult movement.” Her stomach knotted it self, the words 'ritualistic' and 'cult movement' made her think of the death eaters. She didn't want to believe it could be Voldemort and his followers, but she couldn't discount it.

“Something on your mind, love?” Her father inquired and she gave him a loopsided smile in return.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. I need to get Harry a birthday present and I want to get my own owl.” She said as she sat down on the couch. “Usually Hedwig comes to get Harry's gift, but she hasn't this year and I sort of forgot what date it was.”

“Ah, and you didn't remember to do so on your last trip to London.” He gave her an indulging smile. “Well love, if you want to get an owl you can, as a part of your sixteenth birthday present. It is up to you.” Hermione beamed at her father and he chuckled at her. “Tell you what, I'll give you hundred pounds and you can make a day out of it. But you must promise me you'll stay in Diagon Alley.”

“Of course dad!” She shot up from her seat and hugged her father. “Thank you, you are the best!”

 

The first thing Hermione did when she got to Diagon Alley the next morning was to go to Gringotts to exchange the rest of her muggle money. It was another nervous exchange on her part, but all in all she thought she'd done rather well. After that she allowed her self a nice leisure stroll down the alley, she had all day after all, and had never actually taken the time to just look. Walking up and down Diagon in such a manner felt luxurious, having time to look at the window displays and just relax in the atmosphere. She even took time to look in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies!

As she came back around to the marble steps of Gringotts she heard someone calling her name. Looking around, she spotted Neville walking towards her, accompanied by an elderly lady she could only assume was his grandmother. She smiled at the somewhat pudgy boy and waved at him, getting a pleased smiled back in return.

“God day Hermione.” Neville greeted her once they came close enough to talk without shouting.

“Hello.” She grinned.

“Grandmother, may I introduce Miss Hermione Granger. Hermione, may I introduce my grandmother, Dowager Longbottom, Regent Praetor Agusta Longbottom.” Hermione was a bit taken aback with the overly formal introduction, it sounded to her like it belonged in a Jane Austen books.

“Miss Granger.” Neville's grandmother nodded her head regally in her direction, giving her a calculating look.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Longbottom.” Hermione replied pleasantly, inwardly giggling at the sudden urge to curtsey. Sometimes the wizarding world cracked her up, no one was so formal these days. “How's your summer been this far Neville?” She smiled at the boy, missing the displeased look Neville's grandmother gave her.

“It's been good.” He smiled back. “I have been able to tend to my greenhouses. How about you?”

“I've been studying mostly. Harry wrote to me about something really fascinating he had stumbled across and I've been trying to learn as much as I can about it. I didn't know there even was such a thing as a magical inheritance and at first I didn't know what to believe, but the more I read the more I realised that it was true and can you believe that some even get creature...”

“Miss Granger!” Mrs Longbottom's voice cut through her speech. “Such topics does not make for polite conversation, especially in public!” Hermione was shocked, what was wrong with it? She didn't feel like she had done anything wrong, but Neville's grandmother was giving her a look of immense displeasure. “Come Neville, our reservation at Anu'belore is at eleven.”

“Of course Grandmother.” Neville nodded and gave Hermione a soft smile. “Have a good day Hermione. I'll see you on the train.”

“Right, see you then.” She nodded, feeling a bit sad at the sudden dismissal. Hermione watched as they walked away, wondering how Neville could stand living with such a strict and old fashioned woman. No wonder he was so shy and nervous. Shaking her head, she was about to set out towards Flourish and Blotts when she noticed that Neville and his grandmother hadn't turned down Diagon, but had gone to the left. It made no sense to her, there was nothing up that way, but perhaps it was the apparition point. She had been wondering where that might be and so she followed them, eager to see how such a place might look.

It was not the apparition point, of that she was certain. No, it was a street, much like Diagon, filled with people and shops. She had just turned the corner around Gringotts and had stopped dead in surprise, never had she imagined that there was more to Diagon than what she had known. She knew Knock-Turn Alley was off Diagon, connected by a narrow alleyway, but that the street continued, hidden more or less by Gringotts massive building, was unimaginable. Looking around as if in a daze, rather similar to when she'd come to Diagon for the first time, she noticed a sign that read; '1 Heraldick Alley'. So this wasn't Diagon, but a different street. In a sense that actually made more sense, Professors McGonagall had just shown then Diagon and Gringotts, the places they would need for her schooling. The professors had probably not thought to show them more than necessary, thinking they would explore the district on their own. But that had never happened, she had always been to eager to just get her new books and to get home so she could start reading them. In a way, it was her own fault she had never noticed this street before, just like it had been with the books in Flourish and Blotts a few weeks ago. Taking a deep breath, she felt the excitement of a new discovery bubble in her stomach, a large smile spreading on her lips, time to see what this street had to offer.

Heraldick Alley turned out to be so much more than Diagon. Hermione spent hours walking around, marvelling at the variety of the shops. She'd seen hairdressers and barbers, or Coiffures as some of them styled them selves, jewellers, shoe shops, where there was one who only sold shoes and boots made of dragon hide. There was one shop that sold curtains, a few furniture shops, apothecaries and several clothing shops, a few of those looked to be real high end, if she were to go on the price of the gloves she'd seen in the window of one of them. Forty galleons was somewhere around two-hundred pounds! Then there were second-hand shops, or what she would have called antiquities shops, toy stores, a baby shop, even one shop that sold brooms for the leisure traveller, comfort and baggage storage of the highest standard.

In the end Hermione ended up seated outside a café called Willows, her feet needed a rest and she'd become increasingly hungry from the smells of the street vendors. While she ate she was watching the crowds, taking in the fashions and the colours, trying to identify and date as much as she could. It was amusing to see how stuck in the past the wizarding population seemed to be, she couldn't see anything that could be dated past the thirties. And, she mused, that didn't just concern their fashions...

 

Finding a gift for Harry in this new street had her floundering a bit. She usually got him a book of some sort, but now she had all these new shops to chose from and she didn't know what to do. Hermione wanted to give him something useful, something that he would appreciate, but she'd realised that from apart books and quidditch she had no idea. A shop with a bunch of kids and teens standing in front caught her attention, the sign on the front said; 'Jinxed Dice'. Deciding to just go inside and see, instead of trying to get passed the kids in front of the window, she stepped into a brightly lit store unlike any she'd been in. It looked like a mix between a toy store and a book shop, with a dash of a museum boutique. Framed posters of cartoon figures, she thought she recognised Marwin the Mad Muggle, hung on the walls, shelves upon shelves of books, boardgames and miniatures...

“Lost, love?” A kind voice from behind startled her a bit, but she turned and gave the owner of the voice a slight smile.

“No, not really. Just surprised I guess.” Hermione gave a small laugh.

“Nothing to fear here, except perhaps paper cuts...” He mused. “But where are my manners! I am Cladius Banks, owner of this establishment.”

Hermione felt her self relax at his friendly disposition. And the fact that he was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt.

“Pleasure.” She smiled. “I'm Hermione and I'm looking for a birthday gift for my friend.”

“Ah, good ol'e Shakespeare.” Cladius winked at her. “Well, do you know what your friend would like? Is she perhaps a Pantheon player or does she enjoy a good session of Muggle Life?”

“Eh...” Hermione had no idea what he was talking about. “It's a he... and I don't know?”

“You don't know what my shop is, do you?” He smiled. “Well, only way to go then. Why don't I show you around a bit?”

“Right.” She nodded and followed the older man as he gestured for her.

The next hour was spent walking around the medium sized shop, looking at strange card games, boardgames, miniatures games, comics, fictional books and something called tabletop role-playing games. It was so bizarre to see James Bond and Morgan Cane books in a section labelled fantasy. But they also sold decks of exploding snap, gobstone setts, wizard chess setts and quidditch team miniatures. In the end she picked up something Cladius called a 'starter sett' for the collectors card game Pantheon and a few 'booster packs' for Harry. She knew he collected chocolate frog cards and this sounded a bit like that, except that it was also a playable game. Satisfied she exited the shop and headed for Eeylops Owl Emporium in Diagon to get her owl.

 

§§§

 

It was almost midnight and Harry was sitting at his desk, watching the night sky. In just a few minutes he'd be fifteen and he was following his usual ritual, staying awake until after midnight to wish him self a happy birthday. For years it had been the only congratulation he'd gotten. The last few years he'd gotten birthday greetings and gifts from a few people and they always seemed to arrive either just before midnight or just after.

A large, unfamiliar owl with grey and white stripes arrived first, swooping into his bedroom and landing silently on his desk. It was carrying a wrapped package and a letter and once Harry had removed it, it softly gave him a strange sounding hoot before it flew off again. Harry picked up the letter first and his lips stretched into a smile as he read who it was from. Apparently Hermione had gone and gotten her self an owl, Archimedes and he was a Barred owl. Chuckling he opened the gift and grinned wider at the sight of the contents. Now he could play Pantheon with Ran without him needing to borrow one of his decks. He had no idea how Hermione seemed to always know what to get him, but more often than not did she manage to hit the nail dead on with her presents.

Errol, Pig and another owl were the next ones arriving through his window, Pig and the other owl helping Errol. With a fond sigh, Harry gently took care of the aged owl and made sure he had some water and treats to recover with. The other owl was from Hagrid and contained his Hogwarts letter as well. He put the school letter to the side and relieved Pig of his burden before he started opening the gifts. Mrs Weasley gave him the usual home-baked goods and Hagrid had made him a picture frame, the carved wood resembling Hippogriffs. Ron had given him five chocolate frogs, but it looked like they had been opened. It made his heart sink a bit as he thought about why they would look like that, Ron had probably opened them to check the cards or something. Sighing he looked up just in time to see a large, pitch black raven soar through the open window, it was bigger than any raven he'd ever seen and as it landed Harry noticed that it carried a crest on it's chest. The crest looked to be silver and hung attached to a silken ribbon, but it the poor light he couldn't make out the drawings on it. He couldn't risk more light, so he just let it go and carefully removed the letter and package from the bird. Once free, it took off immediately and Harry just shook his head at the snobbish feeling he'd gotten from it. The letter was sealed with black wax and again he couldn't make out the seal in the wax due to the poor light, but he did see the note in at the bottom right corner; 'From Snuffles'. Harry almost shouted in joy, but managed to keep silent by the skin of his teeth, he quickly ripped open the letter and started to read. The first part was the usual greetings and nonsensical stuff, but the second part was more interesting. Sirius had a plan to get him out from the Dursleys and he gave a rough outline of the plan, not to much detail, but the parts that relied on Harry was outlined clearly. Like the fact that his gift from Sirius was vital...

Harry tore into the wrapping on Sirius' present and quickly opened the flat, rectangular box. On a bed of royal blue velvet was a slim chain in bluish white metal, it almost seemed to glow. Harry stared at it, eyes wide. It was amazing. Gently and carefully, he lifted out the bracelet, it almost felt warm, comfortable. According to Sirius it was one of the Black Heir emergency portkeys, used in times past to safeguard the Heir's life. All he had to do was to put it on and only the Lord of House Black would be able to take it off, it would be a seamless chain around his wrist. Grinning he looped it around his left wrist and the moment he brought the edges together it fused and shrunk to fit snugly against his wrist.

_'Wicked'_ , he thought, admiring how it gleamed in the poor street lamp light. All he had to do now was wait for Petunia to receive Sirius' letter, tell Ran he was going to Sirius' from the tenth and make plans to meet up for shopping at Diagon and the Express. Just ten more days and he'd be free of the Dursleys! Harry grinned happily as he stashed away his other presents under the loose floorboard before getting into bed. Just ten more days.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More for you to read, happy reading!  
> Chapter warnings; still unbetaed, the last part might be icky but nothing graphic.  
> Disclaimer; I own nothing, it all belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. I make no money off this.

 

 

IV

 

Spending time at Ran's reading and playing Pantheon made the days until Harry was to go to Sirius fly by, the added bonus of it was that he was fed. Harry had never eaten so well outside of Hogwarts for as long as he could remember. It showed as well, he actually looked healthy. Still a bit thin, but then again so was Ran, so he didn't worry about it. He'd also gotten a nice tan from sitting outside reading just about every day.

Last week Petunia had gotten the letter from Sirius and Harry had been hard pressed not to laugh at her expressions as she read it. Harry had been cleaning the kitchen when she had gracelessly dumped down into a kitchen chair, her entire focus on the fancy looking letter. That weekend all Petunia and Vernon had talked about was how they were going to handle the request from the Duke of Suffolk and if it were even possible to get him to pay for their expenses throughout the years. Harry had made a mental note to tell Sirius about it, and just how much their expenses had been. It would mean telling his godfather of how living with the Dursleys had been, but he refused to let them get away with something they didn't deserve.

Those plans where soon forgotten however when Vernon returned home the Monday after. He barged in the front door while shouting for Petunia. Harry had thought he looked ill, ruddy faced and sweaty. Once Petunia had come downstairs, the walrus proceeded to tell her about the sudden, but very important business trip he had to go on. It was all so very important and he was the only one at Grunnings who would be capable to reel in such an important deal. Harry had listen from the kitchen, where he was finishing their dinner, how Petunia stroked Vernon's ego and he had decided that he needed to ask Sirius if they could get a full report on how the Dursleys had reacted once they got rejected. When Vernon had divulged that Petunia were to come with him to Paris... Harry had been sure that if there were any actual crystal in the house it would have broken.

The next two days had been both amusing and exhausting for Harry. Petunia had gone into a kind of frenzy, she had needed to go shopping for her self and Vernon, it wouldn't do to arrive in Paris in last years fashion, she needed to make sure _everyone_ knew about the trip and how very important it was. She also had to make Dudley go to his Aunt Marge happily, which meant bribes of such that had never been seen before. It had left Harry wondering how they were going to afford it all, they probably thought that Vernon would be given such a massive bonus for the deal that it would cover it. Fat chance, but it would be their problem, not his.

But Harry had also been forced to clean the entire house from top to bottom, and he was sure that he'd never get rid of the smell of chlorine that clung to his skin. And the gardens... Everything had to be perfect before they left early on the morning of the tenth.

Harry had been woken at three am that night by Petunia who barked at him to make breakfast while she made her self ready for the trip. He'd seen Vernon huff and puff up and down the stairs, carrying their brand new suitcases out into the car. And then to his eternal surprise forced Dudley to carry his own things down!

 

Now Harry was standing in the hallway clutching the handle of his trunk, his book bag slung diagonally over his chest and Hedwig in her cage clutched tightly against his torso with his free hand.

“Just so you know boy, I'm _not_ giving you a ride anywhere!” Vernon barked as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

“No need.” Harry snorted. “Sirius gave me my own transport.”

“If they try to blast through my wall again...” The fat walrus looked to be way on his way to a good rant and Harry couldn't be bothered to listen to it. Whispering the activation code for the bracelet, he was treated to a minute glimpse of shock on Vernon's purple face before the spinning colours took over.

 

§§§

 

Hermione stared at the grimy shop window wondering if she actually had the right address. The glass in front of her was grey and gritty and from what she could see of the interior it was definitely not a hospital. Not that she had really thought it would be, but she had assumed it would be more like the private clinics in the muggle world, a nice front room, looking more like an office, and the doctors offices and surgeries further inside the building. But this was just dust, rubbish and mannequins dressed in something possibly from the seventies, most of them missing a limb or two.

Frowning she looked down on the parchment from St. Mungo's, reading the address again and the instructions. Sweet Merlin, why couldn't witches and wizards do anything straight forwards! Talk to the mannequin with the blonde wig!? Hermione took a deep fortifying breath and closed her eyes for a moment, struggling with the urge to curse and cuss. Only once she'd battled down said urges did she open her eyes and lean in towards the glass.

“Hermione Granger to see Healer Storm.” She said evenly as she could, this was just so ridiculous. It was even more ridiculous when the mannequin just nodded and nothing more happened. Now what? Growling, she was about to slam her hand against the window, when it went through the glass. She overbalanced and stumbled forwards, almost falling flat on her face in the mint green reception.

Hermione could feel her face heating up, but it didn't look like anyone had noticed her less than graceful entry, so she stood up straight and found the queue to the welcome witch. It took about ten minutes before it was her turn and she plastered a pleasant smile on her face.

“God morning, Hermione Granger to see Healer Storm.” She smiled, only for her smile to start to slip as the young woman behind the counter didn't even look up, just blew a bubblegum bubble and pointed to the waiting area.

“Sit down and wait to be called.” The woman sighed before she called out; “Next!”

Blinking, Hermione stepped out of the queue and walked over to where most of the people in the reception was waiting. There weren't any seats left so she ended up standing next to a wilting piece of foliage, a strange sense of sympathy for the greenery going through her. Checking her watch she saw that she still had five minutes before her appointment were due, so she tried to discretely look around, mainly curious as to what brought witches and wizards to a hospital.

A woman with neon pink skin was sitting in a chair with her laughing toddler in her lap, a look of resignation on her face as the child kept poking her cheek and gleefully laughing. An elderly wizard was slumped in another seat, his right arm bundled in a red sheet and a small pool of blood had gathered on the floor between his feet as it kept dripping from the sheet. He was every so often sipping from a potions vial with red liquid. An old woman and a younger man kept arguing, or more precisely it seemed like the man was trying to talk her into something and she rather loudly insisted she was perfectly fine, no one died from Scale Rot. The young man then seemed to more or less explode in frustration yelling that yes, people died from Scale Rot and no she was not perfectly fine, it didn't matter how many times she's had it in the past, she was not a young lady any more.

“Miss Granger?” Hermione snapped her head in the direction she'd heard her name. A plump witch of an indeterminable age with golden blonde hair and brown eyes were gesturing for her to follow her. Quickly, she hurried over and gave the blonde a relieved smile. “Good morning, Healer Storm is on the first floor, if you'd follow me.”

“Thank you.” Hermione nodded and followed the witch up the stairs. “Are you a healer too?” She asked, her never-ending curiosity coming forwards.

“Sweet Hecate, no luv, I'm a mediwitch with a speciality in magical beings and creatures.” This caused Hermione to frown, she didn't know there was a difference, Madam Pomfrey was referred to with both titles.

“There is a difference?” She asked as they stepped into a long cream white hallway.

“Of course. A healer requires five more years of study after you get the mediwitch certificate.” The mediwitch smiled at her. “And they only accept the best into the healer program.”

“Fascinating.” Hermione mumbled, her brain busy comparing it to what she knew of the muggle system. It seemed that instead of going straight to medical school, here one had to get a nursing degree first. Although she didn't know enough about mediwitches to accurately label them as nurses. But it was none the less interesting.

 

“Here we are luv.” Her escort had stopped in front of a door labelled; Dane Storm, Healer in Charge, Black ward. She proceeded to knock and opened the door when a deep voice told them to enter. “Miss Granger to see you Healer Storm.”

“Thanks Skyr.” The man behind the desk nodded with a smile before he got up, holding out his hand to Hermione. “Dane Storm, please have a seat.” Hermione smiled and shook the man's hand before seating her self. She had no idea what she had imagined the healer to look like, but it was nothing like the man she was seeing. His hair was messy and white as fresh snow, tall and really muscular with a healthy tan and a long scar slashed diagonally across his face. He was dressed in what she recognised as green surgical scrubs, an oddity among robe wearing wizards. “So what can I help you with today?”

“Um, right.” Hermione pulled her self out of her thoughts, focusing on the reason she'd come. “A friend of mine made me aware of some rather important changes that happens to a witch and a wizard when they turn sixteen. Changes I was not aware of and quite frankly didn't really believe until I took his advise and went to Gringotts. Imagine my surprise when not only did I find out it was true, but that Hogwarts no longer felt the need to educate us of these changes! I understand that for the most part this is rather harmless, but I would certainly have freaked out had I awoken and found my self several inches taller and with ehrm... enhanced attributes!” She could feel her face flushing bright red, but she refused to let her self become embarrassed, she was talking to a healer after all!

“Yes, I can understand that. I take it you are muggleborn or muggle raised then?” Healer Storm asked neutrally.

“Yes.” She answered, although she didn't specify which. “I got the book that the goblins referred me to, and while I feel like I understand what will be happening to me, I do not understand how some can get this creature inheritance. I'm not sure I actually believe that part. How could someone have children with a hippogriff?!” Hermione grimaced.

“How indeed.” The healer smiled, his blue eyes betraying his amusement. “I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you are an intelligent young woman, and I make that assumption based on the fact that you've taken the steps to find out about this on your own.” Hermione bristled at his words, but her integrated respect for authority figures stopped her from interrupting. “Not many would have bothered, they would either believe blindly what they've read or completely disregard it as nonsense.” He leaned forwards in his seat and fixed her with a serious look. “The ability to question everything, seek out more knowledge on your own and form your own conclusions based on that is a sign of a scientific mind. However one must always be aware that one don't know everything and be ready to adjust ones opinions once more knowledge on a matter is presented.”

“Um, yes.” Hermione blushed again, not sure why her stomach was behaving like a swarm of butterflies had taken off in there. It felt like she had been praised and reprimanded at once.

“Now, for why you came here today. What I am about to tell you won't be easily verified and the reason for that is also a bit complicated, but I will do my best and hope you are as scientifically inclined as I believe.” He gave her a pointed look, before he picked up a piece of parchment and flicked his wrist sharply, his wand appearing in his hand instantly. It made Hermione's eyes widen, she had no idea how he had made that happen. She watched as he enlarged the parchment and stuck it to the wall behind him, then with a flick of his wand the words 'Creature Inheritance' appeared on the top. “Now you assume that this,” He gestured to the headline. “is the results of a magical human having a child with a hippogriff, griffin, unicorns and so on.”

“Yes.” She nodded, sitting straighter in her seat.

“Can you think of other such creatures that perhaps is more humanoid in appearance?”

Hermione frowned, furiously thinking of her Care of Magical Creatures course book. “I can only think of mermaids and centaurs.” She replied.

“Yes, but do you know why those are classified as creatures?”

“Oh! Because they declined the offer that was made in 1811 of gaining Being status.” Healer Storm nodded at her and she smiled brightly back.

“In essence, yes. So can you then think of any race of Being?”

“Hags?” She frowned, still not sure what this had to do with her original question.

“And?” He asked, an expectant look on his face. “Come on Miss Granger, think!”

“Vampires?” Hermione tried, she had never read anything on something classified as Being, there were only the centaurs and mermaids mentioned in her course book, the other two she assumed because she'd heard them being spoken of at Hogwarts. Healer Storm sighed and looked sad for a moment.

“Alright, I had hoped to lead you to your own conclusions, but I guess I'm just going to have to tell you. The term 'creature inheritance' is misleading and didn't come onto existence until seventeen ninety eight. Before then it was referred to having been blessed or partially blessed by the Divine and Hecate. Such a blessing was always dependent on what kind of blood that ran in your family. If your bloodline is purely human, then gaining a blessing would be impossible, you would only gain your magical boost. But if your bloodline had been strengthened by the, then called, favourites of Hecate, you had a chance of being blessed.” The parchment behind him had steadily filled in the important parts of his speech and Hermione had dug out her notebook and pen to take notes. “Hecate's favourites have always and will always be magically stronger than witches and wizards, which is why their joining in a family was so highly respected and desired, their blood strengthened the bloodline and magics. Now for the races of Beings, most of then are by the British Ministry today labelled as Dark creatures or Beings, but I will give you a few examples; Dryads, Dwarves, Goblins, Undines, Satyrs and Rakashas.” The races appeared on the parchment, but Hermione had just had an epiphany.

“OH!” She exclaimed as understanding dawned on her. “But goblins aren't creatures! Not really. I mean they might be called that, but they aren't beasts! No matter how rude they can be.” Healer Storm just chuckled.

“I told you you were smart.” He smiled and Hermione blushed again.

“But I still don't really get it.” She huffed, partially annoyed with her self and the reactions she was having to the healer. “Firstly why are they calling it a _creature_ inheritance and how does it work, what happens?”

“Well, let's say that you have Satyr blood in your bloodline.” He started and Hermione nodded to show she so far followed what he said. “It is impossible to say which of the three inheritance options you will get, so lets talk through each of them. You might get the standard one, more magic, more power, a change in heigh, weight, body shape.” She nodded, having a researched it rather thoroughly and had a pretty good picture of the possible changes. “Then you might get a partial blessing. And since you have Satyr blood, we need to take a look at what does Satyrs posses of abilities, skills, appearances and so forth. Partial blessings can give you any combination of this, in addition to a bigger boost to your magical power of the standard inheritance. You might find your self with a pair of horns, the ability to play the flute so well it will enchant any listeners into a frenzy, sleep, arousal, contentment and so forth. You might come into a talent of dance where as you before only had two left feet, or the ability to truly appreciate the subtle differences in drinks. You might even find your self becoming a flirtatious admirer of physical beauty. All of these are traits of a Satyr and you might get any combination of these and not just restricted to one or two. Which is why it is so important to research as much as one can about the bloods in ones bloodline.”

Hermione swallowed, suddenly glad she was a muggleborn. “And the full blessing?” She was almost afraid to ask.

“Full blessings are uncommon these days, but in essence, you would become a Satyr.”

“But, but...” She was floundering and she knew it, but her brain just couldn't comprehend it. “That would mean there should be hundreds of people walking around that doesn't look like humans! I've never seen any, and even if they are uncommon, there should at least be a few in Hogwarts. There aren't any!”

“How sure are you about that Miss Granger?” Healer Storm asked gently. Hermione frowned, her first and immediate answer was that she knew for a fact, but from the way he had asked she was forced to think twice.

“How could they conceal something like that, why would they conceal it? Glamour charms are a constant drain and the more it needs to hide and the bigger the illusion is, the bigger the drain.”

“Most of these families developed special glamour spells or were taught skills to hide their true appearances, but if you were to go back two-hundred years in time, you would see a whole different society. Back then one didn't hide like today.”

Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip, it was still such a fantastical tale that she had trouble believing it and she really wanted to see someone who had such a blessing, to see for her self that it was truly real. But Healer Storm's explanation of the mechanics were helping her to understand the clinical side of it. And yet there was something about it that was bothering her.

“But you said that having such marriages and blessings in the family was considered just that, a blessing. And thus more status and prestige. So why are they now hiding it? What happened to the magical world in order for the term Blessing to be turned into Creature inheritance?” She asked, slightly frustrated.

“Ah,” He gave her a slight smile. “here you are getting close to the heart of the matter. It's a tragedy what happened and perhaps for you an even bigger tragedy seeing as it all started here in England. I have travelled the world and the story remains the same where ever I go. In seventeen ninety a growing group of religious witches and wizards started campaigning against what they saw as bestiality and a mortal sin against their god. They felt that it was wrong to pollute the bloodline with unclean blood, that to breed with anything not purely human mean they them selves were nothing but beast. Such abominations was not to exist and it was their solemn and sworn duty to cleanse the wickedness out of witches and wizards. Can you guess what happened Miss Granger?”

Hermione was almost in tears, she could very well imagine what had happened, it was Hitler, Grindelwald and Voldemort all over again. Blood purist hell bent on ridding them selves of anything that wasn't their perfect ideal. Clearing her throat, she told him and got a sad smile back. “Indeed, war broke out, a civil war that have had massive consequences all over the world. But the thing I think you will find most hard to swallow is that this group of witches and wizards weren't purebloods. It was the purebloods that was massacred, as it was them that were the unclean, the ones with tainted blood. Muggleborns slaughtered anyone with even a hint of a blessing, even being just slightly above average magically was enough to get labelled as a beast and executed.”

“No.” She chocked. It couldn't be. “Why?”

“Because according to their god, no man or woman was to lay with anything other than their opposite sex, nor were they to bear offspring of a beast or anything not of human blood. It was a crime against their god and had no rights to live. So in the short span of eight years, any trace of blessings vanished from the British Isles, the few pureblood lines left had learnt to hide and resentment towards the muggleborns started to grow. The British Ministry declared all Beings as Dark Creatures in order to appease the muggleborns and the term Creature inheritance came into use instead of Blessings in the introductory classes taught at Hogwarts and other schools in the country. A discrediting term to imply that the old blood was tainted and not as pure as the new blood.” Healer Storm sighed and handed her a box of muggle Kleenex. “The attitude have slowly spread, mostly due to the British colonies but there are a few countries that still hold to the old beliefs.”

“It's horrible!” Hermione sobbed. “And that they still blame muggleborns...” She sniffed.

“Wouldn't you do the same? If you saw that slowly but surely everything about your culture was abolished to cater to a culture who made a mockery out of yours? That you no longer were allowed to celebrate the sacred day of Samhain, that the day of silent reflection and communication with the dead were replaced by dressing up as muggle monsters, muggle versions of witches and wizards and gorging on candy? Just because the government is terrified that the muggleborns may take offence and start murdering again.”

“But it's not right! I had nothing to do with that yet they blame me! And how could I know when no one teaches us!” She cried, she was shocked, upset and angry, but she was also horrified of what had done to the purebloods. How could someone do such things, think such things about others? It was Voldemort and his pureblood rhetoric all over again, it was Hitler and Grindelwald and yet this happened before their time. But the heart of the matter was the same, a group of people had been considered unworthy of life and so they were prosecuted and killed without remorse.

“I'm sorry Miss Granger, you came to me wanting to learn about the so called creature inheritance, not to be given a terrible history lecture.” Healer Storm gave her a small apologetic smile.

“No,” Hermione shook her head, pushing down her emotions enough for her to think again. “thank you. I... I don't think anyone else would have been willing to tell me all this” She made a small gesture to encompass what they had talked about. “in fear of my reaction. I have much to think about, and while I would really like to actually see someone with a Blessing or a partial one, I now understand why such things would be difficult.” She swallowed and drew a deep breath. “In the book that Gringotts advised me to buy, there was a small section on the Old Ways, and... and I think perhaps it would be wise to learn more...”

“More knowledge is never a bad thing Miss Granger.” He smiled. “It is how we chose to act on it that determines if it's a bad thing or not.”

“Yeah... I've come to realise that I might not be as clever as I once thought my self to be.” She sighed before straightening her spine and giving him a thankful look. “I've got a lot to think about and I've taken up enough of your time. Thank you so much Healer Storm, I really appreciate it!”

“It's fine Miss Granger.” He stood up as she did and shook her hand again before gesturing towards the door. “Will you be alright finding your own way down, or should I call Skyr back to escort you?”

“No, I'm fine.” Hermione shook her head. “I remember the way.”

 

§§§

 

Harry landed on a highly polished, dark brown, hardwood floor. His trunk skidding in one direction, his legs in another and the next thing he knew, he was staring up at the ceiling, Hedwig in her cage firmly held against his chest. The roof was decorated with gorgeous crown mouldings but at the moment Harry couldn't really appreciate the view, his glasses were askew and he wasn't sure if there was one or two chandeliers.

“Spectacular landing there Prongslet.” A voice full of laughter came from behind him, although he couldn't really hear much due to the racket Hedwig was making. Someone took the cage from him and he gingerly straightened his glasses as he sat up.

“I truly _hate_ portkeys.” He grumbled, turning so he could see behind him. Sirius was leaning sideways against the door frame, looking better than Harry had ever seen him and Remus was opening Hedwig's cage, quickly getting out of the way as she rushed out with an angry hoot. “So where are we?” He asked, looking around the room. It was a circular room with a large crest on the wall opposite the massive, marble fireplace.

“At the House of Black's London town house, Grimauld Place.” Sirius answered as he came over to help Harry back on his feet. “That's the family crest.” He nodded to the large crest Harry was looking at.

“Neat.” Harry grinned.

“Come on, Kreacher will take your things up to your room, breakfast is ready in the dining room.”

 

The dining room was nothing like Harry had thought, it was light, bright and airy, yet there were a definite sense of masculinity. He had thought that in a house filled with antiques and such it might look a bit more frippy? Was that even a word? Harry was seated on Sirius' right hand side, Sirius him self at the head of the table and Remus on the left of him, but with a seat free between them.

“Remus can't sit in that chair, we're neither bonded, engaged or dating.” Sirius chuckled and Harry remembered having read something about table seating in one of the books. Just not exactly what it had said. “You are on my right hand as my heir and I think you can guess who is supposed to be seated on my left.”

“Right, yeah.” He blushed, stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth. All summer he had been starting to get these strange feelings whenever something slightly intimate happened or someone mentioned something that could be intimate. It was a bit annoying to be honest, blushing at every turn and he didn't even want to think about the dreams. Dreams that left him sweaty and panting and _hard_. Heat rushed hotter to his face and he tried desperately to hide it, gulping down steaming hot tea only to choke and cough.

“Hey! Easy.” Sirius laughed, thumping Harry's back as he wheezed and coughed. “No need to inhale your tea, it's not going anywhere.”

 

Grimauld Place was massive, or so Harry thought. Sirius had given him the tour of the place after breakfast and Harry had trouble believing that a ballroom with room for hundred and fifty people was necessary in what Sirius had called a private town house. He'd been shown the basement with it's small wine vaults, small being the size of the Dursley's living room and there were three of them, a modest potions lab and storage room, the boiler room and a family ritual room. The ritual room had been fascinating, the stone wall were just about covered in tiny runes etched into the stone. Harry had wanted to take a closer look, but Sirius had stopped him, he wasn't allowed inside unless he had purified him self, what ever that meant, but he was certain his godfather would teach him about it later. Then there was the kitchen and Kreacher's room which was situated on a half floor, between the ground floor and the basement on the left hand side of the house. Harry thought the kitchen was rather nice, stone walls and flagstone floor with thick wooden beams in the ceiling, from which pots and pans, dried herbs and a salted ham hung. The kitchen table was large and sturdy, dark wood that spoke of years of use and care, it could easily seat twelve people. Harry got a rather distinct feeling of kitchen that belonged in the eighteen hundreds, the large heart for spit-roasts and cauldrons full of stew, a large wood burning range in cast iron and cupboards and shelves filled with anything one might need in such a kitchen.

The ground floor held the entry hall, floo room, where Harry had portkeyed into and where the apparation point was, the ballroom and formal dining room, the gentlemen's parlour and the ladies conservatory. Again Harry didn't quite see the need for it all since Sirius kept telling him that this was mostly a family town house and that all the big and important events were held had the ancestral seat of the Blacks, Ravens Hall. But he guessed that the old pureblood families had a very different opinion of what was necessary than him.

The first floor had the guest rooms, four doubles and two suites, a drawing room, a music room and a small library. Harry thought the first floor seemed smaller than the ground floor, but then again the basement was even smaller. It didn't make sense that there was even room for it all but he guessed witches and wizards had the means to have room for what they wanted. The second floor was the family floor, six bedroom suites and a nursery, a living room and the family dining room, a large family library and Sirius' study.

 

Harry was sitting in the window seat of his own living room slash study, looking down into the back garden and the greenhouse. Kreacher had just served him afternoon tea and since he had missed lunch, he had taken a nap after the house tour, the elf had made him turkey sandwiches as well as the usual fare to go with his tea. It was strange, but Grimauld felt like his home, the only other place he had felt the same had been Hogwarts, but here it was more intimate, the very air felt comforting and he felt like he could relax and breathe. There was a knock on the door and once he had called out for whom ever it was to enter, Sirius came in, a happy smile on his lips.

“How's the room pup?” His godfather asked as he dumped down into the couch, snatching a crumpet from the tray.

“Brilliant, thanks Sirius.” Harry grinned as he turned to face the animagus.

“It's yours Harry, if you want to change the colours or...”

“No! It's perfect!” He shook his head, he didn't want to change a thing about it, he loved the earthy, but light colours and that it was so airy. It was so far from the room he had at the Dursleys or the cupboard under the stairs that it was hard to imagine how it could be better.

“Alright pup.” Sirius laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to see if you were happy with your room and talk to you a bit about what's going happen in the next weeks. Most of it is up for discussion, so feel free to speak your mind, okay?” Harry nodded, still smiling softly. “Right, well I've tried to keep your weekends free, but lets see what you think first. Tomorrow I thought we could go over what you remember from the books, it'll give me a better idea of what we need to cover. I know we wont have time to go over it all, at least not in depth, but I think we'll be able to give you the basics and a bit more to build on. It would be best if you could become friends with a pureblood heir that could help you through the year, but we'll talk about that later.” Sirius looked strangely serious Harry thought. He had always gotten the impression that his godfather was one of those that always took things lightly and never bothered to worry too much. “I'll give you lessons after breakfast until lunch, after lunch we'll either continue or you can self study, though I expect for the first week we'll continue. After tea you'll have a few hours till dinner to do your correspondences, managing of your estate, homework and other kinds of study you want to do. After dinner you have the evening free. Sounds good?”

“Yeah...” Harry chuckled, it was a really packed schedule but he guessed it was needed, he really wanted to learn what he had to in order to be able to do his best at this lordship thing. “I'll probably grumble and complain, but I'll promise to do my best.”

“That's all I can ask pup. And before I forget, if you want to go school shopping with some friends you're going to have to organise it and clear it with Remus. He's agreed to go with you since I can't at the moment.”

“Cool, I promised Ran to go shopping with him and he'll probably bring his otosan along. He's a ward master, and Hermione probably want to meet up too.” Harry grinned, moving from his window seat to sit next to Sirius.

“Otosan?” Sirius asked, looking puzzled.

“It's father in Japanese. Ran is half Japanese and since he has two dads he calls Mr Storm dad and Storm-san otosan.” He replied as he fixed him self a cup of tea.

“No Weasleys?” His godfather gave him a pensive look as Harry sighed.

“I... you won't tell anyone?”

“Of course not pup. You can tell me anything and I won't say anything to anyone unless I think it's for the best for you. But I will let you know first. I only care about you and your well-being Harry.” Sirius gave him a gentle smile and the hand on his shoulder was warm and comforting. Harry swallowed and nodded, absently stirring his cup of tea.

“I'm not sure I want to trust Ron any more, or can trust him any more. He never actually apologised for how he treated me at the start of the tournament and I'm starting to feel like I can't be my self around him. I'm always reconsidering what to wear, what to say, how to act so he won't be mad at me. It's getting tiring. And after spending most of the summer with Ran, who doesn't care if I'm famous, rich or want to study, I'm wondering if it's worth it, just to keep Ron happy.”

“Friends grow apart Harry, it happens. If Ron is your friend, it shouldn't matter to him how you dress or any of the other things, he would want you to be happy.” Sirius said gently. “And if he doesn't, it is time to move on. Don't hold on to something that will later make you resent him, it's better to just let it be and remember the fun times.”

“Yeah, I like the twins though. They are cool and don't treat me any differently.” Harry said softly. “I don't know Bill or Charlie well, but they seem like nice blokes.”

“Well, pup, if things don't turn out with Ron there are plenty of other kids at Hogwarts to befriend. Some might even surprise you.” Sirius smiled comfortingly at him and Harry nodded, deciding he'd try to do more what he wanted and see what would happen. If Ron turned out to be a total loss it would hurt, but he would try to move on, try to follow Sirius' advise.

 

§§§

 

Hermione was standing on the steps of Gringotts trying to spot her best friend and Professors Lupin in the crowds She was dying to get her hands on Harry so that he could tell her all that he had just hinted at in his letters. Like why he hadn't written more than one letter before last week... She had been surprised that Harry wasn't staying with Ron and his family, but with Sirius and Remus, and that he had only asked her and his new friend Ran to go shopping with. There was so much she wanted to know but he refused to tell in writing, just saying he'd explain once they were face to face.

“Hello Hermione, Mrs Granger.” Hermione spun around, gaping. How had Harry managed to sneak up behind them?!

“Harry!” She threw her self at him, hugging him tightly. “How did you sneak up on us? I've been watching for you for at least ten minutes!”

“Air!” Harry squeaked and she let him go, scowling at the large grin on his face. “Remus and I came an hour ago, I had an appointment with my account manager.” He smiled. “You look good, nice tan and I think your hair have lightened as well.”

“Thanks.” She smiled happily, Harry always noticed things like that, not like anyone else she knew. “You're not to bad your self. You look better than ever!”

“Spent a lot of time at Ran's before I left.” Harry grinned. “His dads are great cooks.” Hermione gave him another once over before she nodded. She had always hated how he came back from the Dursleys looking like he hadn't eaten in months, something she suspected was the truth as well, he could never stomach much food once he arrived at Ron's, no matter how much food Mrs Weasley tried to feed him. And it always took him a few weeks into term before his portions reached normal sizes. If nothing else, she would be grateful for Harry's new friend for feeding him.

“So when are you going to tell me everything that you've promised me?” She poked Harry's chest a few times, giving him an impatient look.

“When we have time to sit down and talk without much interruptions.” Harry sighed. “I know you want to know, and I'll tell you all I can, but Diagon isn't the place.” Hermione huffed and mock glared at him.

“Fine, I'm claiming talk time on the train then! Oh! But I forgot to tell you! I made prefect!”

“Really?! That's great Hermione!” Harry beamed at her. “Now you can dock points off of Malfoy!”

“Only if he does something against the rules.” She sighed and Harry laughed.

“Tell you what, I'll buy you a book of your choice for making prefect.” He grinned, putting an arm around her shoulders, giving her a sideways hug.

“Thanks Harry.” She smiled back.

“Hey, there's Ran and his otosan.” Her best friend started waving his free arm. She spotted a short boy with really long, dark blue hair waving back and a tall, Asian man with black hair pulled back walking up the steps towards them.

“Great, everyone is here. Everyone, this is Ran and his otosan, Storm-san.” Hermione did a mental double take, there was no way that that was a coincidence, and hadn't Harry said something about two dads? She took a closer look at the two while Harry continued the presentations. Storm-san was a tall man, dressed in loose linen pants and a oversized, loosely knitted sweater, his hair was pulled back in a small ponytail. He looked relaxed, yet his face seemed a bit blank and if it hadn't been for the small, slightly shy smile he gave Harry, she would have thought he was a standoffish, arrogant pureblood. As if was now, she would have to reserve her judgement until she'd seen more. Ran wasn't what she had thought though, based on Harry's letters she'd pictured a bookish, pale boy that dressed in slacks and short sleeved button up shirts, not a short, skinny boy with an almost glowing tan, baggy pants, flip-flops and a washed out Led Zeppelin tee shirt. She had certainly not envisioned the long hair or the piercings. There wasn't much she managed to interpret of his personality, he did seem friendly, in fact he reminded her a bit of the healer she'd talked to at St. Mungo's and if her suspicions were correct, it would be natural.

“Where to first?” Harry asked and Hermione pulled her self back to the conversation.

“Hermione needs new school uniforms.” Her mother sighed with a smile at her. “And I know it's best to just get it done with.”

 

The seven of them barely fit in the front room of Madame Malkin's, not because it was such a small shop, but because there were so many others that were waiting. It was two weeks until school started and it seemed to Hermione that everyone had waited until the last minute to go shopping this year. She didn't see anyone from their year, but she did spot the woman from the bank who had had a pith helmet under her arm. Again she was dressed elegantly, but practically, with a definite air of Indiana Jones about her. Those films had been some of her favourites, it showed that one could be book smart and clever and still be exciting. When she had been younger it was what she had dreamt of achieving, although she'd never really envisioned all the death defying stunts. And as she thought about it, she realised that she had done those as well. Who would have thought that being friends with Harry would have resulted in her own Indy Jones-esque adventures. It made her suddenly want to hug her friend and thank him, but it also made her wonder about her future. She had never really thought about what she would do after school, all she had focused on was getting the best grades so that when she did graduate she could pick and choose. But looking at the woman, she thought that maybe she could be an adventuress... A nudge from behind pulled her out of her thoughts and she realised that it was her turn.

The measuring didn't take long, and while she stood there both Harry and Ran came in to stand on the measuring stools.

“What kind of uniforms does Hogwarts students wear anyway?” Ran asked as he watched the enchanted measuring tape slither about him.

“The standard kind.” Hermione replied. “Trousers, shirts, sweaters, ties and robes. Why?”

“The last school I went to had tunics and loose linen trousers and the one before that had dragon hide trousers and fur lined battle robes.” He shrugged, only to receive a slap on the shoulder from the tape measure.

“Where did you go to school?” Harry asked. “I've been meaning to ask.”

“I've been to Universitas Magicae Romanus and Durmstrang.”

“That's you done, dear.” The witch taking her measurements patted her on the arm and Hermione was led back to the front room before she could ask any more questions. She heard Harry talking about the Durmstrang students that came to Hogwarts last year, but not what Ran replied to it. The Universitas hadn't been mentioned in the book she'd read on magical education in Europe, but then again that book had only contained boarding schools. Victor had told her much about Durmstrang and how it worked, what classed they had and so forth, so she didn't feel the need to find out more about it, but this Universitas... Now that was a different story. She did however curb her curiosity when she saw them exit the measuring room, Harry seemed so happy and the beaming smile he sent her made her grin back. She could wait until later to ask about the school, right now she wanted to enjoy the day with her best friend.

 

 

Remus was curious about the Storms, Harry had spoken much about them and the time he had spent with them during the summer. As far as he and Sirius had been able to understand, the Storms was the sole reason Harry hadn't starved this summer. But they also seemed to have given him some confidence, some spirit that had been sorely lacking. So all in all, the Storms seemed like good people and it wasn't that they didn't trust or believe Harry, it was just that they both felt like it was too good to be true and wanted to make sure on their own. The fact that they seemed to have moved a lot counted against them, but that could just as easily have a perfectly innocent reason as it could be otherwise. So he kept a casual eye on the two and hoped he would get a chance to ask questions without it being suspicions. Remus had carefully sniffed out their scents, some magics left distinct odors but the only strange element in their scent was the smell of burnt ozone that seemed to be a sort of base scent. It was puzzling, but not necessarily bad, so he'd just noted it as interesting.

“Why are you only buying two sets of school uniforms for your son?” He asked when he heard Storm-san order at the counter.

“My Ran-chan turns sixteen in about two months, he will not fit these uniforms after.” Was the answer he got and Remus wondered how he could be so sure. He knew that gaining a few inches was normal, but paying for the right kinds of charms to be added to the clothes would easily fix it. And considering how short and skinny the boy was he didn't think much of a change would happen.

Once they had all their clothing purchases they headed to the apothecary and Remus opted to stay outside, his nose didn't go well with the overall smell of the place.

 

 

Harry watched with amusement as Ran seemed to try every quill Amanuensis Quill and Stationary shop had for sale. He kept grumbling over the fact that his favourite quill had vanished in the move and non of the other he had were as good to write with.

“Ran, you only ever write with a quill when you're handing in assignments.” He chuckled.

“Only... you don't take notes?” Hermione, who had been admiring a handsome, plum coloured quill, asked, sounding shocked.

“Of course I take notes.” Ran snorted, picking up a quill made out of just the hollow shaft of a feather, about the length of a pencil. “I just use a fountain pen or a pencil, and I use notebooks, not rolls of parchment for it. Parchment is expensive, why waste money on parchment for notes when I can buy paper note books for a fraction of the price. No one cares about what your notes are written on or with what, just that your assignments are handed in on parchment and written with a quill.” Hermione was gaping and Harry wanted to bite his hand to keep him from laughing, especially when he saw the looks Mr and Mrs Granger was giving their daughter.

“And they accepted this at Durmstrang? And that University you went to?” Hermione's voice was almost a whisper.

“Yes.” Ran gave her a frown. “They always asked why I used such methods for note writing, but once I explained no one cared. The only reason they insists on using parchment and quill is the slight magical trace it leaves. It allows the teachers to identify the work as genuine.”

“Wait, what?” Harry blinked. “So if Hermione corrects my essay, they'll know it was her and not me?”

“Well apart from the difference in handwriting, yes.” His friend rolled his eyes at him and Harry gave him a sheepish look back.

“And why haven't anyone told us about this before.” Harry sighed, it would explain why his grades hadn't been more than average even if Hermione helped him.

“Wait, let me guess.” Hermione sighed. “This is something that would have been explained in the class we don't have?”

“Probably.” Ran shrugged. “I know because otosan told me when I started Durmstrang.”

“And since it won't affect your school work, from now on you'll get normal notebooks to take to school.” Mrs Granger told her daughter firmly and Hermione just nodded.

“Oh, I'll need ochre red sealing ribbons and neutral wax!” Harry exclaimed, he had almost forgotten and Sirius had been quite insistent he get it.

“Why?” His best friend turned to look at him, he could see worry growing in her brown eyes, worry that this was yet another thing that had been left out.

“Now that I've officially accepted I'm Heir Potter, I need to do things the...” He grimaced slightly and ran a hand through his hair. “the traditional way. Which means using the Potter colour on the ribbon holding the scroll together and using sealing wax imbued with my family's magic. Sirius tells me this is important, so...”

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione breathed sadly, before she hugged him tightly. “I'm sorry.”

“What for?” He asked, puzzled at her reaction. He loved her as the sister he never had, but he was quite certain he'd never be able to understand the emotional workings of her female brain.

“I'm just so worried about all this new and important information that's been surfacing and for a moment I thought there was more and...”

“Hey, it's okay. Really. I'll tell you all about it on the train, when we can speak more freely.” He hurried to assure her, he didn't want her to worry.

“Okay.” She murmured into his shoulder and he gave her a final, awkward pat on the back before letting go of her.

“Come on, you still need parchment and ink for your homework.”

 

All in all, Harry thought that the day of shopping had gone great. It seemed like Ran and Hermione got along well, no one had bothered them or tried to start a fight, no one had gotten lost and the only big surprise had been when Hermione had showed them Heraldick Alley. Remus had looked a bit sheepish when she had turned to him and berated him about not telling them there was more to the district than just Diagon and Knock-Turn. It had been funny to see his best friend take on the role as tourist guide and showed them around. When Ran had noticed the shop where Hermione had gotten Harry's birthday gift, he'd rushed inside after a quick shout of “Be right back!”. He came out five minutes later and handed Harry a stack of brightly wrapped, small and thin packages, accompanied by a “Happy belated birthday!” and a wide grin. Harry had looked down and ginned widely as he saw the word 'Phanteon' written in glowing letters across every package.

“Booster packs.” Ran had grinned. Remus had gotten curious and Harry had spent a good while explaining to the man the card game and when they'd gotten home Remus had made him go get his cards so he could show Sirius and him self how it worked.

 

§§§

 

The rhythmic sound of dripping water echoed through the darkness. It was cold, white misty breath could have been seen had there been any light to see by. She knew she was naked, but it didn't matter any more, she was so tired. It had been a long time since she'd stopped being cold, hungry or even cared that she was licking the moisture off the stone. If she could only stop waking up. She did sleep more now and there had been a time when she managed to hold the bowl under the dripping water so she could have mouthfuls of it, but she hardly remembered that any more. There had been someone here in the beginning, someone whose hand she could hold when it became to much, but they had been just as cold as the walls and after a while there hadn't been anything left to hold.

Had she been terrified when she came here? Maybe, she didn't remember. Her mind was like treacle, slow and dark, like this place, slowly becoming nothing. She knew she would join the others, maybe be a cold comfort for a while, before she became the floor. Oh, the floor, it wasn't very stable, it was deep and sharp. Every time she moved it would echo, hollow and rattling. She guessed it was displeased, it always cut her. Sometimes the walls would sing, but she had stopped listening to it, every time she had she had felt sick, filthy, bad. Every time she listened she would see and the urge to claw out her own eyes almost became too much.

Did the walls taste different? She wasn't sure, she couldn't remember any other taste than the dark musty one. No, that wasn't right, she used to taste different. Sharp and warm, one bitter and the other thirsty. She licked the wall again, no longer remembering why, but only knowing she either licked the wall or she slept. Maybe it was the clawing inside her, the sharp stabs that raked her insides. Or maybe that was the floor? It often tried to keep her from the wall, pulling her down. Would it help if she did what the floor wanted? Would she stop waking up then? Probably not.

 

There was another sound in the darkness, sluggish and painful. It made her want to cry, it burned behind her eyes and in her throat, made her chest hurt. Did it come from inside of her? Why couldn't she hear the water any more? One beat... white noise buzzed in her ears as her eyes closed. A shudder on the inside and she knew. She wouldn't wake up this time. And there wouldn't be anyone else here, she was the last. She could see them all, all like her, and they were so many! But they had to be in order to fill up the pit. Another beat, hesitant and scared. The darkness waiting for her wasn't peace, she could hear them now, agony and horror. She was sorry, so sorry, for what she would now be a part of.

 

The sound of dripping water had stopped.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN; A new chapter for you all, I hope you enjoy it! Than you for the reviews and kudos!  
> Chapter warnings; Some swearing and seemingly character bashing  
> Disclaimer; Herry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. I make no monies of this.

V

 

Luna Lovegood stood in a corner in the Weasley's kitchen, a serene expression on her face as she calmly watched the chaos around her. Her father hadn't been able to take her to the Hogwarts express this year, he'd come down with the Blue Flu two days ago. So she had told him to write and ask their neighbours, the Weasleys, if they would be so kind as to let her go with them. And here she was, silently wondering if she could get away with pinching some floo powder and just floo ahead, they would never make it in time at this rate.

“Alright there Luna?” She looked up at George, he was sitting on his twin's trunk, amusement dancing in his blue eyes.

“Yes.” She smiled slowly, watching as Ron tried to catch the tiny, black owl that zoomed around the kitchen.

“Mum should just send Pig to Hogwarts in the morning. We're starting to run late.” Fred snorted from his position behind his twin.

“Ginny hasn't come down with her trunk yet.” George sighed.

“If she thinks we'll carry it down for her, she'll have to think again.”

“GINNY! GET DOWN NOW! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN. IF YOU DON'T COME DOWN THIS INSTANT YOU WON'T BE GOING AT ALL!!” Mrs Weasley's shrill voice tore through the house and Luna thought she saw some dust falling off the ceiling. “Ronald! Stop chasing Pig and get your cloak! ARTHUR!” Loud thumping was coming down the stairs and soon a grumpy Ginny could be seen, she was dragging her trunk behind her. She was saved from her mother's ire by her father who rushed up to take the trunk from her.

“She's mad that Harry hasn't come to stay with us this summer.” Fred whispered to Luna, having moved to stand next to her. Of course, Luna thought with a mental sigh. Ginny's crush on Harry Potter was painful to watch, and everyone watched. She had heard a rumour that the only reason Ginny had gone to the ball with Heir Longbottom was that she hoped she'd get to dance with her crush. But that was a rumour and Luna had never put much stock in such things. She did however trust her own instincts and those told her that Ginny was in for a heart break, it would be better for the girl if she just let it go.

“Ginny, with me!” Mrs Weasley was standing in front of the fireplace, waving her daughter forwards impatiently. “After us, Fred and George, then Ron, Luna, and Arthur, you bring up the rear.”

“Finally!” Fred sighed quietly and Luna shot him an amused look.

 

The clock on Platform nine and three quarters showed they had made it by five minutes. The twins helped Luna get her trunk onboard, but vanished as Ginny hurried towards them, leaving their sister fuming. Ron had already stormed away so it was up to Luna to help the read haired girl. Ginny had just gotten on the train when it started to move and she pushed past Luna, flattening the smaller blonde against the wall.

“I'm finding Harry.” She just said, heading down the corridor, dragging her trunk behind her. Luna sighed and picked up her own trunk by the handle. Her father had used a permanent sticking charm to stick a couple of collapsible wheels to the sides of one end of her trunk, so she could easily wheel it after her.

She quickly found the twins, they were both giving their friend Lee Jordan noogies and she smiled to her self as she passed the compartment. She wouldn't have minded friends like that, people she could laugh with and not feel laughed at. But it was hard to let others in, it was scary. Three doors down she found Ginny, she was sitting next to Hermione and across from Neville. Neville was seated between Harry and Ron. She was about to walk by, find a different compartment, when Neville called out to her.

“Luna!”

“Hello Neville Longbottom, Heir Praetor Longbottom.” She answered in her dreamy voice. “Hello Heir Thane Harry Potter. Hello Hermione Granger.”

“Won't you sit with us?” Neville asked, smiling. He had a beautiful smile, she'd always thought so. She didn't know him well, he was shy and she was insecure, but he had always been polite and friendly, even when they were younger.

“Thank you.” She answered, stepping into the compartment and sitting down next to Ginny. Harry and Neville had jumped up and taken her trunk, putting it in the overhead luggage rack for her. “Congratulations on becoming a prefect Hermione.” She nodded to the older girl and watched as she smiled warmly back. Ron snorted and she quickly shot the red haired boy a curious look. He was looking at Hermione sourly.

“Don't see why they had to make _you_ a prefect. You'll turn the common room into a study hall.”

“Of course she won't!” Ginny barked. “You're just jealous!”

“Am not!” Ron shot back.

“Really?” His sister was looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Weren't you the one going on and on to mum about how you were a shoe-in for prefect? Because you were Harry's best friend?” Luna glanced over at Harry at this and noticed the quickly hidden wounded look on his face.

“Shut up!” Ron's face had turned red in anger and he was glaring daggers at his sister, who looked smug.

“I thought friends were supposed to be happy for each other.” Luna mused just as Hermione squeaked.

“Oh, I have to go. I'm supposed to be at the prefects meeting!” The older girl shot up from her seat and hurried out of the compartment. The moment she was gone, Ginny moved into the vacated seat and smiled coyly at Harry. Harry just gave her a half smile back and the silence seemed to stretch.

 

§§§

 

Ran had been apparated to Platform nine and three quarters early by his dads. He wasn't too excited to be spending most of the day sitting on a train, but it was how students got to and from Hogwarts so he would have to get used to it. Sighing, he shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. His back was getting really annoying, especially since the pain had moved down to the back of his thighs during the last month. He tried to distract him self by watching the people on the platform, but people watching had never been much of an interest, so after about five minutes he gave it up as a bad job. He hadn't wanted to take the pain potion his dad had supplied him with for the train ride, but it looked like he wouldn't have much choice, not unless he wanted people to start asking questions. Another sigh and he dug through his book bag, finding and quickly downing the vial. Relief spread through him slowly and he took a deep breath, no longer feeling the ache restricting his chest. It hadn't occurred to him just how bad his back had become until now and he just hoped it wouldn't get much worse, sitting was a bitch and he had classes and homework, he didn't think the teachers would let him stand. But for now he would be able to manage the hours on the train, the rest he would deal with if he had to. Putting the empty vial back in the bag, he pulled out his book and settled in to read.

 

Ran had only been reading for twenty minutes when the compartment door slid open and he looked up from his book to see an olive skinned boy, dressed in expensive, tailored clothes looking at him blankly. It made him raise an eyebrow, silently asking what the other wanted.

“Mind sharing the compartment?” The teen finally asked and Ran just gestured to the seat opposite him self. He watched as the other entered and put his trunk up on the luggage rack. Either he had charmed his trunk to be feather light, or he had some serious strength hidden under those tailored clothes. There was also a rather intriguing scent tickling his nose, he couldn't quite catch it, but it was nice, real nice.

“I am Heir Lord Blaise Zabini of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Zabini.” The teen introduced him self after he'd sat down. Ran mentally groaned, a full introduction...

“Soryan Ryuzaki Storm.” He replied, holding out his hand. He could see the flash of recognition in the other's light brown, almost amber eyes and held back a sigh.

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance Master Ryuzaki Storm.” Zabini nodded regally as he grasped Ran's wrist in a strong grip.

“And you yours, Heir Lord Zabini.” Ran answered as required, hoping the formalities were over. He was not a fan of it, but his otosan had drilled into his head from a young age that one always respected the customs. One didn't have to agree with it, but it paid to be polite.

“Might I assume you are a transfer student?” Zabini asked with perfect neutrality. He had a perfectly blank face, his eyes hadn't given anything away except that he had recognised Ran's surname, and now even his voice... It was people like this that made Ran want to scream in frustration.

“Yes.” He deliberately kept his answer short, he could be just as vexing as the other. It was childish and he knew it, but at the moment he didn't care.

“Oh, just wait till we tell Blaise, he's going...” Both Ran and Zabini looked over to the door to see two girls standing in the opening. The shortest of the two stood in front, black hair falling freely down her back, her face sporting a cold look. The other girl had wheat blonde hair cut in a bob and she was trying to keep her face blank, but her eyes shone with curiosity.

“Daphne, Tracy, do come in and sit down.” Zabini said, standing up to take their trunks. Ran mentally sighed and stood up him self, it was only damned polite to help the girls with their trunks. No matter that he was five foot two.

Once the trunks were stowed away and everyone seated, Zabini handled the introductions.

“Master Ryuzaki Storm, I would like to introduce you to my friends; Heiress Daphne Greengrass of the Noble House of Greengrass and Tracy Davies.” Ran go up again to take their hands and bow over the offered limb. Greengrass' expression never changed, but Davies' eyes danced with mirth.

“Daphne and Tracy, let me introduce you to Soryan Ryuzaki Storm.”

“Pleasure.” Both the girls said, although Ran was not sure if Greengrass meant it.

“Like wise.” He replied, giving them a short nod.

“Ryuzaki Storm is a transfer student.” Zabini informed his friends while Ran mentally gritted his teeth.

“Really?!” Davies seemed to perk up. “Never heard of those at Hogwarts before. Why did you transfer?”

“Please.” Ran sighed. “Just use Storm, you don't have to say Ryuzaki Storm. And we moved to England.”

“And you couldn't stay at your old school?” Davies frowned, she was the one of them with the most expressions and Ran felt more inclined to talk to her. It also helped that she didn't seem overly attached to the formalities.

“No, I can't use international portkeys twice a day, the aurors would start to think it's suspicions.” He told her with a shrug.

“Day school.” Greengrass sniffed coldly, as if this meant Ran now wasn't worth anything. Not that he thought she had given him much worth to begin with. The five minutes warning whistle blew and Davies hurried out of her seat to look out of the window, her hands braced on the small table between Ran and Zabini.

“Anyone wanna bet the Weasleys are late again?” She asked, grinning. “And dragging poor Potter along with them?”

“That's a fools bet.” Greengrass scoffed and Ran thought so too, only because he knew Harry hadn't been staying with the Weasleys.

“Oh, here they come!” Davies giggled. “Damn, they're dragging the Lovegood heiress with them, not Potter.” She straightened and got back to her seat. “So Storm, what house do you think you'll end up in?” Ran raised an eyebrow at the question, but answered none the less.

“That would depend on what criteria I'm sorted on, and how much my definition of those criteria differ from the school's. So I really don't have a clue.” He shrugged. “My biggest concern is that Hogwarts only teaches two of my elective classes.”

“And what electives doesn't Hogwarts teach?” Greengrass asked coldly.

“Magical Forging, Battle Magic, Healing and Magical Theory.” Ran started only to be interrupted by the dark haired girl.

“You are lying. There isn't room for six electives a week as well as core classes!”

“Of course there is.” He snorted.

“What other kind of electives did your school offer?” Zabini asked, still in that damned neutral tone.

“Appart from Arithmacy and Ancient Runes; Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, Enchanting, Spell Crafting, Rhetoric and Debate, Rituals and Old Magics and Arts.”

“Oh, wo...” Davies didn't get any further as the compartment door had slid open again and someone exclaimed; “Sweet Morgana, what is that!?”

Ran looked over to see a girl with dark flowing hair and a disgusted sneer on her face stand in the door way.

“Zabini, Greengrass, why on earth haven't you booted that freak out of your compartment?” The girl drawled haughty and Ran raised an eyebrow at her, wondering where she'd gotten her upbringing from.

“Parkinson.” Greengrass said in greeting and to Ran's surprise her tone of voice was downright glacial. It also seemed to make the new girl even more malicious, as the next words coming out of her mouth made Ran groan.

“Consorting with mudbloods now? It reeks in here, you better be careful or it'll taint even your blood. Think about your poor, dear sister, she won't be able to survive the infection, what with her poor health.”

“Sure that's not your perfume?” Davies commented off-handedly. “The air in here was fine until you showed up.”

“Shut up, halfblood! If we weren't in the same house, I'd take points and give you detention for that!” She snarled back, tapping a pink painted fingernail on a badge on her chest.

“Lucky me then.” Davies smirked, leaning back in her seat and stretching out her rather long legs, keeping Parkinson from entering the compartment.

“Parkinson!” A deep voice coming from the corridor startled said girl. “Don't dawdle! I won't have the new Slytherin prefects late to the meeting!” A tall, auburn haired teen was now standing behind her, a displeased look on his face.

“Of course.” She replied through gritted teeth. “Zabini, Greengrass.” With a haughty look at those two, she turned and walked away. The older boy sneered at her before he turned his head and gave them a nod.

 

§§§

 

The wait for Hermione to come back from the prefects meeting was long. Harry just wanted to tell her all that had happened that summer, but he wasn't sure he wanted everyone else in the compartment to know. And he didn't want to ask them to leave either. So much had started to change in his life and he needed Hermione's level head to ground him, she was good at spotting where Harry was panicking over nothing and what he aught to do instead.

He was glad that Ron hadn't yet noticed that Harry wasn't wearing Dudley's cast-offs, Remus had taken Harry shopping last Saturday and while his new clothes were muggle clothes, they had cost several thousand pounds. Harrods in London had been an experience and a half, he knew Petunia would sometimes go there and buy something, just so she would get the shopping bags. Then she would use them to make the neighbours believe she had the money to shop there regularly. Remus had been given a list from Sirius over things Harry would need, apparently Kreacher had been in tears over the state of Harry's clothes and he first refused to clean the rags until Sirius had promised him that Harry would be getting clothes fit for a heir. And now Harry's wardrobe and chest of drawers at home were filled with new, fitting clothes and shoes, and his new trunk had a wardrobe section that the elf had spent hours filling with just the right kind. Harry knew that the moment Ron noticed his posh clothes something would happen, he just hoped it wouldn't be too bad, but Ginny's comment earlier about Ron thinking he'd be made prefect just because he was Harry's friend had him thinking it wouldn't just be a minor blow-up. The talk he'd had with Sirius about it had helped, but he still felt apprehensive about it.

Ginny had been trying to catch his eye since she'd moved to sit in Hermione's seat, and Harry wondered if there was something wrong with her, she kept fluttering her lashes and shifting in her seat, constantly smoothing down her sweater. It was weird, he'd never seen her behave like that, or anyone else for that matter. He would of course be the first to admit he had no clue what fourteen year old girls did or thought, but he knew Hermione had never behaved like that, so he could only assume something wasn't quite right.

Luna was reading a glossy magazine upside down and back to front, but she seemed happy, so Harry left her to it. Neville was thumbing through what looked like a horticulture news letter, something that made Harry smile. Quiet and shy Neville had grown over the summer, and almost all of the puppy fat had gone and Harry found him self thinking that Neville would grow up to be a handsome young man, he was already showing the signs, a strong neck, straight back and his shoulders were starting to widen. Nothing like Ron who just seemed to grow like a weed and just upwards.

“How was your summer Harry.” Neville suddenly asked, making Harry blush lightly as he'd been caught looking at him.

“Surprisingly good, thanks.” He chuckled, thinking about all that had happened, was happening. It felt that he had been once more thrown into the proverbial deep end, but he didn't actually mind this time. Yes he had a lot to cover and learn, but for once it wasn't anything life threatening. “How about you?”

“Oh, it was good. I always enjoy being able to spend time in my greenhouses and gardens.” Neville smiled.

“Shove over Ginny, I wanna play chess with Harry.” Ron had gotten up and placed his battered chessboard on the small table in front Harry. Ginny glared daggers at her brother, but eventually moved back to her original seat. Harry gave Neville an apologetic look, he didn't want to actually start a row with Ron on the train. Neville just frowned at Ron, but went back to his news letter after giving Harry a small, shy smile.

 

§§§

 

After the prefects had left, silence returned to the compartment and Ran went back to his reading, he was reading a copy of an old Japanese manuscript on the importance of the forge and it's construction. Ran had been introduced to the marvels of metal forging when he was eight. Their neighbour had been an old blacksmith who still did all the repairs for the village they lived in. And once he understood that Ran was curious about his work, he'd let him help, carefully making sure the young boy understood the dangers. It had been the start of Ran's dream of becoming an Artefacter, forging metal and magic.

He could hear the other three talking quietly between them selves, but he couldn't be bothered to try to listen, his book was way more interesting.

“Listen, just for the sake of our discussion here, what school did you go to?” Davies suddenly asked, and Ran realised they were still on about the elective classes. Sighing he looked up at the three.

“Universitas Magicae Romanus.” Davies looked blank, Zabini got the same flash in his eyes as when he heard Ran's name and Greengrass, she looked shocked, at least for a split second before her face settled back into the cool mask she'd worn since she'd come into the compartment.

“You'll be a Ravenclaw then.” Zabini said and Davies looked over at the dark haired teen.

“Why?” She asked.

“The Universitas Magicae Romanus only accepts the best. You will have to have at least seventy precent Outstanding grades and the rest can not be under Exceeds Expectations. They start classes at eight in the morning and the school day lasts until five in the afternoon.” Zabini explained to her and she whistled softly once he was done.

“Braniac then.” She wagged her eyebrows at Ran, grinning. “Just promise me you'll help us poor mortals once in a while, especially me.”

“As long as you want to learn and not just want the correct answers, I'll help.” He told her.

“Oh, fine.” She huffed dramatically. “Force a young lady to work for it!”

 

§§§

 

Three chess games later and Harry had had enough. Ron was still trying to convince him of one more go, but he didn't fancy loosing again. Chess just weren't his cup of tea, he would much rather have a few games of Pantheon and the only other player he knew of were Ran, and he was in a different compartment. Ran had told him in the last letter that he'd find a compartment of his own and come see him later, giving Harry time to talk to Hermione alone. Harry had though it was a good idea, he had just forgotten that the probability of actually being alone with his best friend was close it zero. So here he was, wishing he'd just told Ran to ride with them, he and Hermione got along fairly well in Diagon, and it wasn't as if Ran didn't know just about all he was going to tell Hermione anyway.

“Well, that was interesting.” Hermione huffed as she closed the compartment door behind her and shooed Ron away from her seat.

“Why, wait, I wanted one more game.” Ron whined.

“You can play later.” She replied.

“Why can't you sit next to Loony?”

“That's horrible Ronald!” Hermione scolded, pulling him up and over to his original seat. “You don't go around calling people rude names!” Ron just gave her a sullen look as he sat down, his arms crossed over his chest. “If I hear you doing it again, I'm taking points off you.”

“You can't take points of your own house!” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Of course I can, I'm a prefect.” She rolled her eyes at him, absently stroking Crookshanks who was occupying the seat between her and Luna.

“Fine, I'm gonna go find the twins.” He got up. “The next ting you know, she'll dock points for breathing too loud!” The door slammed shut behind him, leaving three out of four gaping.

“Only Professors Snape does that.” Luna sighed, shaking her head. “And had Hermione been Professors Snape in disguise, she would already have done that. I think he has a mild Wrackspurt infection.”

“Right.” Hermione blinked, shaking her head a bit. “Right.” Harry knew what she was going to ask next and he was contemplating whether or not he wanted Neville and Luna to know. Neville was probably alright, he was a heir him self, that much he remembered from Sirius' lectures on the pureblood families in England and their standing. Luna was an unknown. He was about to open his mouth to ask her for some privacy when Hermione spoke.

“Well, you promised me you'd tell me all about your summer once we were on the train. We're here, now cough up.” She smiled, eagerness shining in her eyes. Harry knew it had been difficult for his friend to wait so long and he didn't really see any harm in the others knowing most of it, he would just have to be careful with what he said.

“I did, didn't I?” He smiled back at her. “Right, it sort of started a week after term ended. That's when I meet Ran.”

“Yes, you said that was a story in it self.” Hermione nodded.

As Harry started to tell her about that day, he realised it would be difficult to omit anything, it wouldn't make sense if he did. He really would be needing to trust that Luna wouldn't run off with what he would be telling, or maybe he could ask them for a vow on not to tell anyone without his permission. Stopping his story just before Nymphadora entered at the Storms he took a deep breath and just asked.

“Neville, Luna? Could I ask you not to tell anyone about my summer unless I tell you it's okay? It's just that if the wrong people found out, I'm not the only one in trouble.” Neville gave him a slightly surprised look while Luna just smiled softly and took her wand down from her ear.

“I promise not to divulge anything that Harry Potter tells me about his recent summer, unless given permission to do so. So I say, so mote it be.” She said clearly and a soft golden light illuminated her for a moment. Once it was gone, she put her wand back behind her ear and went back to her magazine. Neville sighed, but he was smiling slightly.

“Only you, Harry. Only you.” He muttered before he did the same as Luna. Once the glow had vanished from him, Harry breathed deeply and gave them both a big smile.

“Thanks, if it had been just me...”

“Don't worry about it Harry.” Neville interrupted with a smile.

“Right.” He nodded and with a last thankful glance at the two he continued.

 

“Wait, wait.” Hermione was frowning. “Your saying that this Nymphadora woman was working on orders from Dumbledore and in a secret organisation started by the Headmaster? And that they were watching you twenty-four seven?” Harry just nodded. “I'm not sure how I feel about that. Having you under supervision is just wrong, especially if you weren't supposed to know about it. It's invasion of privacy! In the muggle world it could have you arrested and brought up on charges.”

“It only gets worse.” He sighed and told them about Mrs Figg.

 

“That's just wrong.” Neville scowled. “I don't care what reasons Dumbledore had or have, deliberately keeping you in the dark is not right. With muggleborns we don't have much choice, we have no way of knowing for certain they are magical until they show up on the first year list when they turn eleven. Well, there is a way, but that requires access to the Hogwarts Book and according to Gran it's location have been lost for centuries.”

“Then how do they know who to send letters to?” Hermione asked, a puzzled look on her face.

“I don't know. Gran said that the house elves just knew somehow and that was why it is them that have the responsibility for the letters.” Neville shrugged.

“Hmmm.” Hermione shook her head and focused back on Harry, who just chuckled at her before he continued. He told them about Remus taking him back to the Dursleys after shortly talking about his afternoon and evening at the Storms. And then he came to the letter from his mum. He swallowed a few times before he managed to go on.

“The package turned out to be from my mum. She'd had the lawyers keep it for her and to send it to me after my fourth year was over. It was a letter and a wooden box. She wanted to tell me something important about her self and she was scared she wouldn't live to tell me. It was where I learned about the magical inheritance that I wrote to you about.” He smiled sadly at his best friend and watched as she connected the dots.

“But how, Harry?” She frowned. “How did she know about the other kind? From what I've gathered, it's not something that's spoken about outside of family?” Harry watched as she shot Neville an apologetic look and got a small smile and a nod in return. It was something to think about later he thought.

“Because my mum was adopted. She found out when she got an inheritance a month early.” He told her.

“Oh,... OH!” Hermione's face went from confusion, to happiness as she figured it out, then back to a slight confusion. “But Harry, that would mean you're not a half blood. And, and your mother must have come from an old line.”

“She did,” Harry nodded. “but she never found out which. Even with Sirius' help she couldn't figure it out.”

“Harry,” Neville was blushing and his eyes were begging him not to take offence. “have you... you know... taken a Legacy test?” When Harry nodded, relief was visible in Neville's face and posture. “Good, good.”

“Ehm, can I ask what a Legacy test is?” Hermione asked and Harry was surprised at her, normally she would have just demanded to know what it was, now she was humbly asking.

“It's a test you do with your account manager at Gringotts.” Luna answered somewhat airily. “It will show you what is in your bloodline. What you have to prepare for in the eventuality of a blessing.”

“Thank you.” Hermione smiled at the girl. “And Neville, I owe both you and your grandmother an apology. I now know better and I understand perfectly how I overstepped my bounds. I am still curious and want to know more, I would love nothing more than to talk to someone with a blessing of any kind, but only if they truly don't mind. I won't go around asking about it.” At the end she was blushing rather heavily, something Harry didn't understand, but he did realise that she had done a faux pas. Harry was rather impressed that she was willing to let it rest.

“I'll tell Gran you apologised. Your apology is accepted on my part.” Neville smiled shyly, making Hermione smile back in relief.

“How did Sirius find out about it though?” She asked a moment later, a small frown on her brow.

“Hmm? Oh, he was the one that found her. And he explained it to her. She swore him to secrecy though. And she didn't even make him take a vow, she just threatened him into silence.” Harry chuckled. When he'd talked to Sirius about it, his godfather had still been worried about waking up without his bits the next day. “The other thing she wanted me to know about was how I had managed to survive the killing curse. Not that she knew it would happen, but she had taken precautions, suspecting something was going to happen.” And then he told them about what he knew of the spell and how his mother had come across it.

 

“So she just had a gut feeling?” Hermione asked, looking a bit dubious.

“Mother Magic wanted her to have it.” Luna said softly. “Hecate guided her and helped her with it. Entropy is an ancient form of magic, there are legends of how the last of the druids only used it as a last resort against the Romans.” Both Harry and Neville nodded, Harry because his mother had written that she thanked Hecate every day for finding the spell. Hermione looked a bit more sceptical, but she didn't comment on it.

“But what opened the biggest can of worms was just an off-handed comment at the end of her letter.” Harry sighed. “She told me not to let the burdens of my Lordship drag me down.” He let it hang there for a moment, letting his best friend absorb what he had said, not noticing the surprise on Neville's face.

“Harry.” Neville said, cautiously. “Didn't you know?” When Harry just shook his head at him, Neville just gaped. Then he tried to say something and when that didn't work he just growled, long and loud. It was so unlike the Neville Harry knew it left him blinking in confusion.

“Neville?” He tried, only to have Neville shake his head back, apparently not done with his fit. Harry turned back to Hermione and continued, letting the other boy some room to collect him self. “I wrote to Remus to ask him about it, if it was true and all. That night I got a whole stack of books, Sirius had given Remus a list of books he wanted me to read.”

“It's bloody criminal it is!” Neville had found his voice again. “What wanker is your magical guardian?!”

“Dumbledore.” Harry immediately replied, a bit taken aback in the face of Neville's righteous anger.

“Dumbledore?” It was Hermione's turn to mimic a goldfish. “But your godfather...?”

“Sirius Black is your godfather.” Luna said, she was looking rather intensely at Harry.

“He's innocent!” Harry quickly defended, but the girl just waved it away.

“Of course he is. He's a pureblood, he did the blessing when he became your godfather, thus he couldn't have done what he's accused off. He'd have been striped of his magic, but most likely he would have torn him self apart, trying to fight the covenant he has with Hecate and the Divine. As it is, he still have his magic and his mind if he managed to escape Azkaban to come to Hogwarts two years ago.”

“It's true.” Neville bit out. “Harry, you have to give me permission to tell Gran about this, just the Lordship and your godfather bit. Sirius Black is a Lord, the Black family is one of, if not the eldest, family in England. She needs to know so she can get in touch with him...”

“Okay Neville.” Harry held up his hands in surrender. “You have my permission to tell your grandmother about anything you want, I'll trust your discretion on what you tell her.”

“Thank you.” Neville sighed, then he took a deep breath and straightened. “Heir Thane Potter, I Neville Augustus Longbottom, Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom, herby offer to revive the alliance between our two houses.” Harry was momentarily stunned, but quickly gathered his scattered wits to reply, he couldn't be seen hesitant in this.

“And I, Hadrian James Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, accepts your offer of reviving the alliance between our two houses.” He held out his hand and Neville took it, clasping Harry's wrist and Harry's own hand closed around his. “So we say, so mote it be.” They said at the same time. There was no light show or anything to indicate it was a legal oath, but they could both feel it, a tie between them. They both smiled widely at each other.

“Hmm, a bit anticlimactic wouldn't you say?” Hermione was looking at them critically, but the corners of her lips were straining, they kept tugging upwards. It made the rest of them laugh and soon she too joined in. “So Sirius got you books to study?” She asked, rather eagerly, once they calmed down a bit.

“Yes.” Harry chuckled. “And yes, if you really want to, you can borrow them. Gotta warn you though, they are dry. Even Ran struggled with ' Etiquette, Ballrooms and Conversation, the Handbook of Polite Society'.”

“Ouch, I've tried that one. Gran found it was the best way to make me fall asleep.” Neville made a face.”

“Mhm.” Harry made a sound of agreement. “Don't read it before you go to sleep, don't read it in the morning, if you're hungry or stuffed. In other words, read it carefully. You do run the danger of falling asleep or becoming parched.” He shook his head. “The rest of the summer, until I left the Dursleys, were mostly spent at Ran's house. And most of that time we tried to get through the books Remus had sent.”

“Where did you go when you left your relatives? I gathered you weren't at the Weasleys since Remus took you to Diagon.” Hermione asked.

“Oh, I went to Sirius'. He had cooked up this brilliant plan to get me out without the Order finding out.” Harry grinned. “It was brilliant. I have my own room and all. I've spent the last three weeks having lessons from Sirius in how to become a Lord and all that I need to know. We've only managed to cover the basics though, so he'll be sending me homework to do over the year.” He chuckled.

“I'll help you.” Neville smiled. “I've been having these lessons for as long as I can remember and my Gran is a mean task mistress.”

“Oh, that would be amazing!” Harry exclaimed, relieved. He had been wondering how he would be able to do the assignments that Sirius had said he would be giving him.

“So Harry, let's see if I've gotten it all straight.” Hermione started. “Some secret order were watching you night and day on Dumbledore's orders, your old babysitter turned out to be an original member of the same order and the suspicion is that she's been keeping tabs on you your whole life.” Harry nodded and Hermione looked at the other two to see if they had anything to add to that.

“And she didn't inform Harry on who he was.” Neville added. “I don't know if she'd been told not to or not, but I really don't care why. She should have and she didn't.”

“Right.” Hermione nodded and continued. “Then you find out that your mum was adopted, what caused you to survive the killing curse and that you are a lord.” Once again she looked at them to see if she'd missed anything. Harry bit his lip in consideration, slightly apprehensive of his best friend's reaction to the information he wanted to add. In the end he decided that it would be better to just tell her.

“Umm, Sirius and Remus told me that the reason they hadn't told me about my heritage before was that Dumbledore had told them I couldn't be bothered with it. That I was too busy and had too much on my plate to worry about my family. He even forbade them to mention it.”

“That's... that's... are you sure?” Hermione almost stuttered and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, Sirius is pissed at him for it.”

“I'm sure...” Hermione started but Neville cut her off.

“Dumbledore is Harry's magical guardian, there is no excuse for not doing his duty. He can't even hide behind the fact that Harry lived with his aunt. He's had access to Harry since his first year, he should have told him then and started to teach him. But he didn't, he haven't and he's made sure those who would have told him didn't.” The usually shy and meek teen's voice was hard and it was clear to Harry that Neville wouldn't back down on it.

“Okay, that is your opinion.” Hermione sighed. “I still think Dumbledore had a good reason...”

“Why would he keep my family history from me?” Harry shook his head and looked at her sadly. “It's my birth right Hermione. It's my responsibility.”

“But look at all the extra work you'll have to do. I'm sure he just wanted you to be able to focus on your schooling.”

“Yes, it's a truckload and more to do, but only because it's been left for so long, had I been taught earlier it wouldn't have been so much. Hell, my dad didn't do anything with the accounts, I have to go through everything since my grandfather died.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “He even tried to take control of my accounts, but Gringotts wouldn't let him, since I hadn't told them I wanted him as Steward.” He finished softly. Hermione looked torn and he felt bad for her, he really did, but at the same time he didn't trust the headmaster any more and wanted her to understand why. Then maybe she wouldn't be so blinded any more.

“You don't think he just wanted to make sure your finances were in order, do you?” She sounded dejected.

“No, because Gringotts doesn't just deal with the finances. They are executors of all bonding contracts and wills, any legal document is kept in your account and managed by your account manager. They manage your family affairs.” He tried to explain the complicated workings, but didn't think he'd gotten it right.

“But the Ministry does that.” She frowned.

“In a sense yes.” Neville sighed. “But they only have copies. It's not legal unless filed with Gringotts and they send out the copies to the Ministry. The Ministry have long wanted the power that the goblins have in that sense, but all they can do is keep records.”

“But why?” Hermione now looked a bit frustrated and Harry couldn't blame her.

“Why what?” Neville looked a bit confused.

“Why does the goblins have that jurisdiction and not the ministry?” She clarified.

“Ah.” Neville smiled. “I think it was in the third century that they started to manage the intricacies of family affairs. The heads of houses found that it was easier to trust the goblins with such sensitive information, as they aren't concerned with human politics and feuds. It became so popular that after a few centuries if you didn't file you contracts and birth certificates with Gringotts they were considered illegitimate. So when the ICW were founded in the fifteenth century, they gave the goblins the legal authority on the matters.”

“Why don't they teach us this in History?” Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate to talk badly of any professors, but... Honestly, Binns is rubbish!”

“We just need to cut the thread holding him to this plane.” Luna shot in.

“None of us know how to do an exorcism.” Neville replied just as the compartment door was pushed open and Ron walked in, slumping down into his seat.

“We just need a pair of pure silver scissors, imbued with phoenix tears and unicorn hair, and a monocle with a clear quartz lens. It's the most humane way to make a ghost move on.” The small blonde explained with a shrug. “There is no need to force them through such a traumatic experience as a exorcism.”

“Who are you exorcising?” Ron asked, looking sceptical at Luna.

“Binns.” Harry chuckled.

“Hell no!” Ron exclaimed. “I like having classes I can sleep in. They are the best parts of the school day.” Harry, Neville and Hermione exchanged glances, silently agreeing that they would rather have a competent teacher in history than Binns. Luna just went back to her magazine.

“Hey Harry, why isn't Ran sitting with us?” Hermione suddenly asked.

“Ran? Who is Ran?” Ron asked, frowning.

“A friend of mine.” Harry smiled. “He and his parents moved in to my neighbourhood just as our summer break started.”

“And he just happened to be a wizard?” His read headed friend snorted. “Sounds like death eaters to me.” Harry took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten, he'd been having this argument with just about everyone it felt like and quite frankly, he was sick of it.

“Ran wanted me to spend time with my friends first, said he'd find us later in the train ride.” He replied to Hermione instead.

“That's kind of him.” She smiled, having cottoned on what Harry hadn't said, that Ran was giving him time to talk to her first.

“Yeah, he's a cool guy.” He grinned, happy that she had understood.

 

§§§

 

The lunch trolley had just been by when a skinny blonde boy entered the compartment. He too was dressed in tailored and expensive clothes and had a rather blank expression on his face. Ran just wanted to groan, what was it with these kids and stone faces. Did they think it made them untouchable?

“Theodore!” Davies grinned. “I was wondering where you'd hidden your self.”

“Blaise, Daphne, Tracy.” The blonde boy murmured politely, seating him self on the seat next to the door, opposite of Davies. Ran was about it ignore the new teen and go back to his reading, when Zabini took it upon him self to introduce him. It was another round of overly polite and rehearsed greetings, apparently Nott was heir to an Ancient House and just how many of those were there? To Ran it seemed like there were more members of the aristocracy than not, so far he'd meet two that weren't and four that were. Or maybe it was the British that had a strange and convoluted social structure. The books he'd read with Harry over the summer sure pointed him in the direction of an onion, so many layers that it made you cry even before reaching the middle.

Suppressing a sigh, Ran closed his book and put it back into his bag, pulling out his packed lunch and a box containing one of his Pantheon decks, he'd made the box last semester in his magical forging class. It was made out of delicate plates of copper and steel, folded over and over, creating a shimmering wave like pattern, not unlike the patterns found on a blade made by the master smiths of old in Japan. It hadn't turned out like he had wanted, the lumos he had tried to work into the metal hadn't quite stuck and the folding hadn't been as precise as it needed to create the delicate pattern, but it still worked as a box for his cards, so it wasn't a total loss.

“If you'll excuse me, I promised a friend I'd stop by for lunch.” He got up and nodded to the others, it would be nice to talk to someone who did more than look blankly at you.

 

§§§

 

Harry was eating a pumpkin pasty, waiting for Hermione to finish reading his charms essay when the compartment door opened and Ran walked in.

“Ran! Take a seat.” He grinned after having hurriedly swallowed his bite.

“Harry, Hermione.” Ran grinned in greeting, carefully scooping up Crookshanks and taking the seat between Hermione and Luna, the part kneazle looking bewildered at the sudden change.

“Hello Ran.” Hermione smiled absently as she kept reading Harry's homework.

“Oh, introductions.” Harry sat up straighter, remembering he was supposed to do such things now. It was still strange to him all these formalities, but he wanted to do it, it would only benefit him once he took up the mantle of his Lordship. “Right.” He grinned, exchanging amused looks with Ran. “You already know Hermione, so...”

“How the hell does he know 'Mione?” Ron shot in angrily, only to be reprimanded by the girl in question.

“My name is Hermione, not 'Mione or anything else.” She gave Ron an annoyed look. “And I know Ran because I meet him in Diagon when we went shopping for our school supplies.”

“You went shopping without us?” Harry sighed at his friend's angry question, he didn't want to fight with Ron about this.

“Yes, since I stayed with the Dursleys all summer, Hermione was the only one besides Ran I had contact with. She rang me up after the supply list had come and I was able to join her to get what I needed for the year. And since Ran and his parents just moved to England I thought it would be nice to show them around.” He lied, not really happy about it. But Sirius had told him that no one in the order could know he had been with his godfather instead of with his cousin, because Dumbledore couldn't know. But mostly it was because he didn't really want to lie to Ron, despite the fact that he wasn't sure he could trust him any more.

“You could have just owled Harry, you could have come stay with us as you do every summer.” Ron huffed and snatched a pack of chocolate frogs.

“And how could I have done that?” He sighed. “Hedwig was locked up in her cage until today. I don't know how to pick a lock like Fred and George.” Ron just glared moodily at Ran, seeming to ignore Harry's explanation. Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to get back on track. “Ran, I'd like to introduce you to Neville Longbottom, Heir Praetor to the Ancient and Most Noble house of Longbottom,...”

“The fuck Harry?” Ron interrupted again, looking at Harry as if he'd grown a second head. “Why are you talking like Malfoy? And for that matter, why are you dressed like a ponce?” Harry felt his heart sink, he had hoped that Ron wouldn't notice or not care, that he had matured a bit since that time at the beginning of their first year, but it didn't seem like it. It hurt to hear, even if he had suspected it.

“Harry, isn't dressed any differently than me.” Neville replied evenly. “And he was only making polite introductions.”

“I don't think he sounded like Malfoy at all, they have very different voices.” Luna piped up from behind her magazine. “I'm Luna Lovegood, Heiress to the Ancient House of Lovegood.” She held out her small hand, smiling dreamily as Ran took it and bowed his head over it. Ron scoffed at the sight.

“Guys, this is my friend Ran Storm.” Harry tried to finish the introductions. The blue haired teen just grinned and gave him a wink.

“If we're going to keep with the formalities, you should tell them my full name, but I don't think you've ever heard it.” He chuckled and Harry blinked. “My full name is Soryan Ruyzaki Storm.”

“Ah, right.” Harry blushed slightly in embarrassment, but he smiled to his friend non the less. They had never actually introduced them selves to each other, the only one of the three Storms he had been properly introduced to was Storm-san. But the Storms weren't all that formal, or at least that was the impression Harry had gotten of them over the summer. Storm-san had even given him a nickname of sorts.

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Neville nodded with a smile as Crookshanks gave of a loud meow and they all laughed as Hermione's cat tried his best to get Ran's lunch box opened.

“Any fish in there?” Hermione asked and Ran just nodded.

“Sushi actually.” Ran answered and seeing their mostly blank looks elaborated. “Raw fish.” Ron made a disgusted sound that the rest ignored.

“You'll eat it at your own risk.” She warned with a smile directed at the furry, orange cat.

 

The next few hours were spent watching, and laughing at Ran fencing off Crookshanks while he ate his lunch, cheering as the cat managed to make off with a large piece of tuna and playing Pantheon. Harry was excited to show the others the card game, and was pleasantly surprised at the interest Hermione showed, although he suspected it was more the charms and illusions that drew her and not actually the game. Neville seemed to take quite a shining to it, playing both Harry and Ran by borrowing their decks. Luna found the creature cards fascinating and kept a more or less running commentary of facts about them. Harry was able to ignore his nagging worry over his friendship with Ron and just have fun.

 

“Say Ran,” Hermione asked as they was nearing the end of the train ride. “are you going to ride with us up to the castle or are you going with the first years?” Harry blinked, he hadn't thought about that. He had just assumed that since Ran was going to join them as a fifth year, he would be doing the same as them. But now that he thought about it, Ran had to be sorted as well.

“My instructions are to go with the first years.” His friend replied as he gathered up his deck, putting it back into the deck box.

“Well, you'll be in for a nice surprise then. It's a nice trip.” She smiled. “Come on Luna, we'll step out when Ran leaves to let the boys change into their school robes.”

 

Harry knew he was staring, he couldn't help it. There was something that looked like a dead horse with bat wings pulling the horseless carriages. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what they were or why they were now used, the carriages had worked perfectly fine before. And it was painful to see an animal so thin as these were, he could see every bone in their body, it was as if someone had taken a skeleton and stretched a thin layer of taut leather over it. The worst of it was that no one else seemed to be bothered by it.

“I can see them too.” A soft voice came from his right and he turned his head to shoot a quick glance at whom ever it was that spoke. Luna was smiling softly at him and he swallowed, looking back at the horrible sight. “They are called Thestrals, and only those who have witnessed death can see them.” She continued in the same soft tone. It was eerie, he thought, that there were actually animals that one couldn't see unless someone had died before you. But why hadn't he been able to see them before, he had seen his mum die at the hands of Voldemort.

“I don't understand.” He muttered. “I saw my mum die, why couldn't I see them before?”

“Understanding and acceptance.” Luna answered gently. Harry swallowed, realising that she was right, when Cedric died he had understood and accepted the reality, even if he didn't want it to be. With his mum's murder he had been too young to understand, besides, he hadn't really remembered it until his third year either.

“Harry!” Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts and a small hand on his arm urged him forwards, towards the carriage that his friends had climbed into.

 


	6. Chapter6

 

AN; Thank you all for patiently waiting, I have little to no time left for writing in the spring and summer time. But I have managed to scrounge up some hours here and there. So here it is, not as long as my usual, but something is better than nothing (I hope).

Standard disclaimer applies, I do not own Harry Potter nor make any money on this.

Enjoy!

 

 

VI

 

Amelia Bones sat at her desk in her study at home, a piece of parchment in front of her. What was on the parchment wasn't written in a human hand, no flowing script or chicken scratch. The typed words almost made it feel like reading the Daily Prophet, except that nothing she had read in the newspaper had rattled her as the words typed here did.

She had patiently been waiting for Alastor to report in, every day hoping to see writing on the parchment sitting in the Aetherwriter. But nothing had come and she had started to think that maybe there was nothing to find, that there hadn't been made a mistake, even if she knew that Alastor would report in no matter what he found. And here she was, sitting in her cosy study, the light colours and feminine touches so different from her office at the Ministry, looking at a piece of parchment that made her want a stiff drink.

' **Archives hold no information on a trial. Found and copied the arrest orders, arrest report and Azkaban transfer orders.'**

No trial information... This was bad. She knew it had been chaos on the slow days back then and mayhem on the bad days, but everyone sentenced to Azkaban had gotten a trial or so she had thought. She hadn't been head of the DMLE back then, but a Hit-witch, but she had followed those trials as closely as she was able, concerned that someone could slip through the net by ways of corrupted members of the Wizengamot. And apparently someone had done just that, except that they didn't walk free.

Oh, she wasn't as naïve not to think that a few had gotten off, but there wasn't anything she was able to do about that, they had been judged and unless new information came forwards, her hands were tied. But this... She fervently hoped Alastor was able to dig up enough evidence, she wanted justice, no matter if the man was guilty or not.

 

§§§

 

Harry was nervous, it was strange but also understandable, he couldn't wait to see what house his friend Ran would end up in and what he would think of Hogwarts. During the talks they had had this summer about the school, once it was known that Ran would go, it had sometimes seemed like Ran didn't think much of it. He objected to how they were sorted, claiming it was stupid to generalise children in such a way and so young, and he hadn't seemed impressed with the elective classes that were offered either. But despite all this, Harry truly hoped Ran would like it here, it meant a lot to him, in some strange way.

"Come on." Ron muttered darkly. "I'm starving."

"I can't see how Ron." Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "You've been eating chocolate and sweets all day."

"That ain't food." Was the reply she got just as the doors opened and Professor McGonagall walked in, leading the first years and a lone fifth year at the end. The fact that there was clearly a student not eleven years old had the Great Hall buzzing with chatter as everyone started to speculate as to who this was. Harry felt bad for his friend, he knew how it felt to have all of them whispering about him, but it didn't look like it had any effect on his friend. Ran walked calmly down between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, following the line of firsties, his hands in the pockets of his trousers and a mildly interested look on his face.

"Is that a boy or a girl?" Lavender giggled and Harry rolled his eyes, just because Ran had really long hair, he didn't look even remotely feminine.

"Why does he have metal studs on his face?" Ginny asked bewilderedly.

"I think it's body piercings he's got." Dean volunteered. "It's become quite popular..."

"Gross!" Ron interrupted and Harry sighed quietly, he didn't quite understand why Ron seemed to dislike his friend so much. Hermione shushed them all just as the sorting hat begun his customary song. It was a different song this year from what Harry could remember from the few times he'd actually been present at the sorting. Usually the hat just presented the houses, but this year it sang about house unity and how it was important to stand together against the coming darkness. Harry thought it was a pipe dream, lovely but impossible to achieve.

The hat finally finished and Professors McGonagall unrolled her scroll, calling the names of the first years. There were many more first years this year Harry thought, or maybe it only felt like that because he was waiting for Ran to be sorted, but eventually the last of them had taken their seat at their house table and the whole student body waited for the new teen to be called. The silence stretched and just as the attention started to shift from Ran to McGonagall or Dumbledore, the headmaster rose from his throne-like seat.

"This year we have a transfer student, and I'm sure you will all help in making him feel welcome here at Hogwarts and help explain the differences between our beloved school and Durmstrang." Dumbledore gave them all an indulgent smile before retaking his seat, a soft laughter rising from the student body. Harry was having trouble believing what the headmaster had just done, or how the rest of the school had reacted. Neville elbowed him gently in the ribs as Professors McGonagall called; "Storm Soryan Ryuzaki!"

"Look at the Slytherins." Neville murmured in Harry's ear. Harry looked away from his friend, who was about to sit down on the chair, to the green and silver table all the way across the hall. None of the Slytherins were laughing, they were either frowning slightly or keeping their faces blank. It was as if they didn't appreciate the headmasters words, but then Harry remembered that most of the Slytherins had gotten to know the delegation from Durmstrang last year. Shaking it off, Harry looked back at his friend, who was now scowling as he sat with the hat almost covering his eyes. After what felt like a small eternity, Ron had started to grumble about being hungry again, the hat finally called out, "Ravenclaw!"

Harry grinned and clapped for his friend, pleased that Ran hadn't ended up in Slytherin. Not that that would have stopped their friendship, but it would have made things more difficult.

"Finally!" Ron snapped, making Harry aware of the fact that dinner had arrived.

 

 

Ran had taken a seat next to the petite blonde from Harry's compartment, Luna, silently wondering why no one else seemed to be seated next to her. The seat on either side of her was free, and she was sitting not far from the centre of the long table.

"Mind if I join you, Luna?" He had asked her as he'd climbed over the bench.

"Oh, not at all." The pretty blonde had smiled back at him. "But you would be wise to have some mint humbugs before you eat anything else, it'll keep the tum'ums from making you over eat."

Ran had thanked her for the advise and once the food appeared on the table he'd started with a mint humbug.

"So you went to Durmstrang?" The question came from the girl sitting across the table from him, the wrinkle on her nose telling him that she didn't think much of the school he'd attended.

"Yeah." He nodded, wondering where she was going with this. "I believe that the headmaster informed you all of that as I was about to be sorted."

"Oh, don't mind Mandy, she's still bitter about being turned down by the Durmstrang student she asked out for the yule ball last year." The boy on his left snorted, making the girl, Mandy, turn bright red.

"Shut up Kevin! I didn't want to go with him at all, but we were supposed to show good sportsmanship! Besides, everyone knows that if you go to Durmstrang that all you're taught is the Dark Arts!" Mandy sneered, seemingly having forgotten that Ran was there.

"Really?" Ran asked, a trice pierced eyebrow raised in question. "Just like everyone knows that if you go to Beuxbatons all you are ever taught is what cutlery to use?" His scathing comment made both Mandy and Kevin blush and he could hear Luna's content humming next to him all the better for the silence that settled. "You're all idiots." He snorted, shaking his head. "I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be bright, inquisitive and knowledge hungry students, not idiots swallowing propaganda whole and asking for more."

"It's the wrackspurts." Luna explained. "They love misinformation."

"Then there have to be a large infestation here." He sighed.

"So you are saying that they don't teach Dark Arts at Durmstrang?" An Indian looking girl sitting next to Mandy asked.

"How do you define the Dark Arts? I can't answer that unless I know what is considered Dark Arts here." He replied, handing Luna the bowl of mashed potatoes she had silently asked him for by nudging him and pointing at it.

"Define?!" Mandy snorted, looking at him through narrowed eyes. "The Dark Arts are illegal, and anything that causes serious injury, are intended to control or kill, or have the use of bodily fluids and or parts are Dark Arts!" She smirked.

"Then by that definition most magic is Dark Arts, and so I have to say yes, we're taught the Dark Arts at Durmstrang." He shrugged as Mandy gained a look of pure superiority. "But then again, so are you."

"How so?" The Indian girl asked as Mandy's face turned ugly.

"Incarserus is intended to control, thus by your definition it's Dark Arts, the same with the full body-bind curse, the leg-locker, veritaserum... Even quite a few Transfiguration spells are about forcing someone into something of your control. Stupify can kill if enough force is used or if the victim is elderly or weak. Most cutting curses can kill if not aimed properly and with the right amount of power behind it. Most potions can cause a deadly overdose, and you are taught to brew poisons, even if they are considered weak, enough of it and it'll kill. By your definition, blood adoption is Dark Arts, reattaching of splinched limps is Dark Arts, even male pregnancy is Dark Arts just as a female impregnating another female is. Do you still consider this to be your definition of the Dark Arts?" Ran gave them all a pointed look and he was pleased to see that most of the Ravenclaws that had been listening were looking thoughtful. It didn't matter to him that not all of them were considering what he had said, what mattered was that some of them had started to actually think.

"Beef or turkey gravy for the moat?" Luna mused out loud.

"Use the hollandaise sauce." Ran answered and handed her the right gravy boat.

 

 

Theodore Nott was quietly and with table manners drilled into him by his father, eating his dinner. Small cuts of lamb with an even smaller cut of potato, a dash of gravy, everything constructed to be chewed easily and not cause unneeded breaks in the conversations. There was only one thing wrong with it, Theo preferred to listen, not to participate in said conversations and while he could get away with that at school, it was not possible at home. His father wanted him to bring their house up out of the murky mire he him self had dragged them into, wanted Theo to cultivate as many connections as he could in the social standing and apparently that was to be achieved by dinner parties and small talk. But Theo had been taught better by his mother, to make his own way and play to his own strength. And by listening he had gained much, nothing he could show at the moment, but he knew that when the time was right that he, Theodore Nott, would step into the arena and be recognised.

At the moment the whole of Slytherin were talking about one person, and it was not Potter. It made Theo laugh on the inside, that there actually existed a person that could make them focus on someone other than the 'Dark Lord's' vanquisher. Theo had known before the sorting that someone special was going to be sorted, Blaise had seen fit to inform him of just exactly why their house was going to be gossiping like a bunch of old maids at afternoon tea. It had puzzled him when Blaise had told him as to why this would cause such a stir and his friend had muttered something about ignorant isolationists before proceeding to enlighten him. Even Daphne had cursed once Blaise had finished and Tracy had been laughing her ass off. Apparently she was the only one who had made a favourable impression.

Tracy kicked him in the shin under the table and he glanced up at her, her eyes shining with vicious glee and he couldn't help the small smirk that curled on his lips in answer. Pansy had seemingly just realised how badly she'd fucked up on the train if Malfoy's rant was anything to go by.

"I can assure you Malfoy, her calling him a freak was the least offensive thing she said about him." Daphne, who sat diagonally across from Malfoy, said frostily and every Slytherin watching could see that the blonde was close to blowing his top.

"Can't imagine what that'll do to your reputation, she claiming to be your future bonded and all." Millicent, who was sitting between Theo and Malfoy, chimed in, hiding her smirk by taking a small sip of her goblet. Theo was suddenly looking forwards to the house meeting later, there was going to be a real political backlash and the power structure in the house was going to shift a lot more than it normally did after a summer. It made him wonder if Blaise would be stepping out of the shadows or keep letting Pucey handle it.

 

 

Harry had to rein in the pout that had started to form on his lower lip when the last spoonful of trifle vanished from his plate, along with any other traces of the desserts the house elves had made for the feast. Ron was back to grumbling, this time about how far it was back the the common room and how he would be unable to walk the distance.

"You shouldn't have eaten so much then." Hermione replied rather primly.

"Hogwarts should have one of those, what-you-call-it, ellevntrons. Then I could just step into one and once the doors open again I'd be in the common room. Would save ages in the mornings!" Ron looked quite happy with that, probably already thinking of how much longer he could sleep in the mornings.

"Elevators." Hermione corrected, it was more or less a reflex by now that they corrected their friends on muggle words.

"Yeah, those." Ron nodded as Dumbledore rose from his seat and the hall fell silent just moments later.

"Welcome, welcome! Welcome back to a new year and welcome to our fresh, new students. May the days in these halls be filled with laughter and friendship, in these dark days it is vital that we do not forget to live and take pleasure in the moments. They may prove crucial in the times ahead..."

"Hem hem."

"We would be wise to head the warning our beloved sorting hat have given, only with unity amongst our selves can we be strong enough to..."

"Hem Hem!"

Harry wasn't the only one looking at the short, pink clad woman who had been trying to interrupt Dumbledore. Just about the whole of the student population was looking at her, wondering who she was and why she was trying to cut in on the headmaster's speech. Even Dumbledore was looking over his shoulder to see what it was she wanted. Which was apparently what she had been waiting for.

"Thank you Headmaster, for your wonderful speech." Her voice was sugary sweet, yet Harry could detect an undercurrent of distaste. Dumbledore looked like he was going to reply, but the woman, Harry thought she looked a bit like an over grown toad, steamed ahead with her own speech.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching." Harry frowned, and a quick glance at his bushy haired friend told him she was thinking the same, how much of those unique skills had been removed from the British Isles by the Ministry. How much of that knowledge had been removed from the population by cancelling information classes for the muggleborn? Or just plainly no longer teaching certain subjects?

 

 

Ran wanted to laugh, the woman was talking bullshit, the British Ministry had for over one hundred years systematically weeded out and outlawed the ancient and unique skills in their population.

"Every Headmaster and Headmistress of Hogwarts had brought something new to the wheighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay." She continued and he bit back the urge to snort, if they hadn't wanted stagnation and decay they would have gotten rid of the sorting practise. Labelling innocent kids for life before they had a chance to fully develop them selves, it was just wrong. He wondered how many of the new Slytherins would experience the harsh sting of a stinging hex within the next few days, just because the other students felt justified in bullying them, they were 'evil' after all and did not matter. Or how many of the new Hufflepuffs would be picked on just because the rest of the school considered them worthless and weak.

"Then again, progress for progress' sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering." And that, Ran thought, was the reason nothing had been done with the sorting system. The British didn't want to change, it would screw their perception and force them to think, they might even realise that outside of their little isle they didn't have a foot to stand on.

 

 

"A balance then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation, because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement." Theo didn't know what to make of the short, stocky woman. She was sprouting ministry propaganda, thinly laced with the same twisted pureblood rhetoric as his father and his friends used. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see that the whole Slytherin table were listening hard, with the exception of their new first years, most of them still innocent of the way their world worked.

"Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." She gave them all a sweet, patronizing smile, tittering softly as the Headmaster started to clap, apparently trying to cover up the silence of the student body. This woman was going to be trouble, Theo could swear she was going to be.

 

§§§

 

Harry was up early the next morning and he hurried through his morning routine, wanting to get down to the great hall for breakfast as quickly as possible. He wanted to catch Ran as early as he could, he needed someone normal to be around for a while. The atmosphere in the dorm was somewhat stifling, what with Ron eyeballing his new trunk and clothes and Seamus' strange silence and looks. So he was rushing through the more or less empty common room and down the hallways at eight o'clock in the morning on a Saturday.

 

"'Arry! Yer up early." Hagrid's surprised voice halted Harry as he was about to almost run into the great hall.

"Hagrid!" He grinned, it was always good to see the gentle half-giant. "Sorry, didn't see you."

"Now that's a first." The large man chuckled, shaking his head and Harry's grin turned sheepish.

"I was just in a hurry to find Ran. I know he's up early, even on weekends."

"Ran? That's the new kid? The one from Durmstrang?" Hagrid asked, sounding worried. "Not sure that's someone yeh wanna be friends with..."

"What?!" Harry wasn't quite sure he'd heard Hagrid right, but his stomach had started to churn unpleasantly.

"Oh, yeh dinna know he was from Durmstrang?" Now Hagrid sounded apologetic and Harry shook his head, trying to shake off his confusion.

"What, no, I knew he'd gone to Durmstrang." He replied absently. "What you mean I shouldn't be friends with him?"

"Well, ev'ryone knows..."

"Screw everyone!" Harry shouted, suddenly furious. What was it with people never questioning anything, everyone knows this and everyone knows that, and so that meant no one needed to think for them selves. How did this community accepted 'truth' appear? "It's because of _everyone knows_ that my godfather spent twelve years rotting in Azkaban. It's because of _everyone knows_ that he's a wanted man! NO ONE knows what really happened apart from Sirius and Wormtail! Everyone knows is a fucking excuse not to use their brains, to think, to do their bloody job!" He drew a deep and sudden breath, his teeth clenched hard. "And for your information Hagrid, Ran went to Durmstrang for his first and second year only!" Harry shook his head and turned, hoping his friend were in the hall.

"'Arry, I'm sorry if I've offended yeh in any way." And Hagrid did sound genuinely sorry. The fight left him as quick as it had seized him and he slumped his shoulders.

"Yeah, no worries Hagrid. I'm not really mad at _you._ " He sighed. "It's just that one one seems to think I am allowed to make friends on my own, that anyone I'm friendly with needs to be verified by everyone else. They don't think I'm capable of knowing who's good or bad and... well..." Harry trailed off. "I'm just so sick of hearing _everyone knows_ , when _I know_ it's not true."

"Ah, well, we all just wanna look out fer yeh, 'Arry." Hagrid started, then hastily added; "An' if yeh say Ran is okay, that's good enough fer me." Harry just sighed and gave the gentle half-giant a weak smile, still stewing over the fact that just about everyone thought it was okay to try to micro manage his life. "Oh, an' 'Arry, if yehr looking fer Ran, he's outside. Saw 'im down by the lake."

 

 

Harry quickly spotted his friend once he got closer to the lake, he'd been wondering why Ran was outside at this time of the day. His friend seemed to be dancing or something, but as he neared the other teen he could see that Ran was holding something that looked like a sword. It surprised him, as he didn't know that his friend had any interest in fencing, although it didn't look like fencing what he was doing, surely fencing didn't involve spinning around and lunges in different directions.

"Hey, Ran!" He called, giving the other a wave of his hand. Ran stopped his movement and turned to look at him, a grin stretching his lips.

"Morning Harry!" His friend replied as he walked over to a black bag, bending down to pull a bottle of water out of it. Now that Harry was only a few feet away from his friend he could see that the sword had two blades instead of just one and it almost looked broken at the end, as if the tips of it had been snapped off. It was weird.

"Didn't know you knew how to fence." He gestured towards the strange looking sword, trying not to think to hard on how Ran's neck and throat looked like as he swallowed large gulps of water.

"I don't." Ran said, using his chin to close the opening of the bottle and throwing in back into the bag. "I was doing a few butchered kendo katas."

"And that is?" Harry didn't hesitate to ask, he had no idea what Ran was talking about and he was curious!

"Kendo is a Japanese style of sword fighting. A kata is a series of moves put together in specific patterns. I say butchered, because my dual bladed falcion isn't really suited for for the style, but I like to go through the katas as a warm-up." His friend explained, moving back to where he had been before Harry approached and fell into what Harry could only describe as a stance.

"Right, but you do know how to fight with a sword." Harry chuckled, Ran could call it what ever he liked, Harry would call in sword fighting anyway. Ran just stuck his tongue out at him before he started to move. "Now, why on earth do you know sword fighting?"

"Otoosan began teaching me kendo when I was five, just like he had been." Ran answered, thrusting forwards and twisting the blade. "Dad began teaching me to fight with a staff soon after."

"Eh, just how many weapons do you know how to fight with?" Harry was almost afraid to ask, it was a bit daunting to watch his friend as he moved through the kata.

"Six."

"Six?" He blinked in surprise. "Why on earth do you know how to fight with six different weapons?"

"Because my fathers have taught me." Ran said as he moved his left hand back and twisted his wrist. A quiet, but distinctly metallic, snap reached Harry's ears, but his eyes widened as Ran was now holding two swords, the double bladed sword had been split into two, and his friend started to move much faster. Harry swallowed, it was amazing to watch, the fluidity of it all, it was like nothing he'd seen before. He couldn't understand how it was possible to move like that, Harry could barely reach down and touch his own toes without bending his knees. Sunlight flashed brightly of the blades, creating streaks of light, once or twice almost blinding him. Harry had no idea how long he'd stood there watching the deadly dance, but it was doing strange things to his body. Warmth was growing in his groin, tension was tightening his stomach and he could feel his face flush, he had no idea why watching Ran did this to him, he had never felt like that before and it was a bit disconcerting to be honest. When Ran stopped moving, Harry took a deep breath in relief, he had started to feel a bit embarrassed by his own body's reaction.

"Hand me my water bottle, please." Ran was panting, sweat running down his temples and his black tank-top clung to his torso like a second skin. Harry tore his eyes away from his friend and hurried over to the bag, picking up the worn plastic water bottle and throwing it. Ran caught it deftly and after having used his teeth to pull open the top, drank greedily of it. This time Harry managed not to stare, instead he focused on the fact that there were three other water bottles in the bag, two he could see had to be empty, as the top weren't pushed down. Just how long had his friend been out here if he'd already drank a litre of water? The bottle he'd given Ran landed next to the bag, startling him slightly.

"There's a chain in there, hand it to me?" Ran was still panting, but much less than just a few moments ago.

"Chain?" Harry shook his head, but crouched down so he could rummage around in the bag for said chain. "Why do you need a chain? Why can't you just conjure one like everyone else?" There was a roll of fibrous white tape, a hoodie, a pair of trainers, a towel, a pack of blister patches, two rolls of support bandages... Harry finally found the chain at the bottom, under a pair of heavy dumbbells. He threw the chain and watched with increasing curiosity as Ran hooked the chain to the pommels of his swords.

"You might want to take a few steps back, Harry." Ran said with a crocked grin. "I'm not exactly good at this yet."

"Sure you're not." Harry muttered, but did as the other teen had told him to. However it became quite clear to him rather soon, that Ran didn't handle two swords on a chain anyway near as well as just two swords or even one. He spent most of his time watching with his heart lodged in his throat as his blue haired friend had to dodge and jump out of the way of his own blades. It was almost hilarious to watch, or it would have been if he hadn't been so worried for his friend.

"Just how long have you been doing that chain thing?" He asked once Ran called it quits.

"Started about three months ago." The other teen grinned, removing the chains as he walked towards Harry. "Haven't gotten the hang of it yet."

"No kidding." He murmured. "How do you managed to not cut your hair off?"

"Magic." Ran smirked, dropping the chain into the bag before he reassembled his sword from two to one. "So what brings you out here so early?"

"Hmm? Oh, that." Harry shrugged, he'd been trying to see if he could spot the split seam on the hilt of the sword, but it was invisible, it truly looked like it couldn't be taken apart. "Ron isn't happy with me at the moment, and Seamus have been strangely quiet and giving me weird looks, the dorm just started to feel a bit too cramped."

"Why?" Ran asked as he dumped the sheathed sword onto the bag.

"Why what?" He blinked, not sure he knew what the other teen was asking.

"Why isn't Ron happy with you?" The blue haired teen clarified as he picked up the bag and slung it over a shoulder. Harry wanted to say that he didn't know, but that wasn't true, or at least not the whole truth.

"He doesn't like the way I dress now. I think he's jealous, but I don't think that's all of it. It can't be, not with him accusing me of looking like a ponce or dressing like Malfoy." He sighed as they started to make their way back to the castle.

"Is 'dressing like Malfoy' a saying in Britain?" Ran asked, looking puzzled.

"No." Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Malfoy is a Slytherin in our year."

"Still don't see why dressing in tailored clothes would be like 'dressing like Malfoy'. All of the Slytherins I saw and spoke to yesterday were dressed like that. And both Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein in Ravenclaw have high end tailored clothes. They are also in our year."

"I think he's using Malfoy as example, since we don't get along that well with him." Harry tried to explain and Ran just nodded.

"Fair enough."

 

§§§

 

Neville was staring at the blank piece of parchment in front of him wondering just how he was supposed to formulate the letter he needed to write to his Gran. There were of course the standard pleasantries, those he had no trouble with, but how to breach the subject of how badly in the dark Harry had been kept, that he weren't so sure of. He didn't think it would do to just write; 'And by the way, just found out yesterday that Harry Potter have until this summer been totally ignorant of his status and duties. We should do something.' Nope, it wouldn't do at all, first of his Gran would have a heart attack from the wording alone, second, it didn't even say anything of worth. And what about the issue of Lord Black? No, Neville would need to carefully construct every sentence, choosing his words with great care. But maybe he could ease in to the subject by forwarding Hermione's apology... It was worth a shot.

 

_Dear Grandmother._

_I hope this letter find you in good health and spirits, even if it was only yesterday since we last spoke. The day's blessings to you._

_A new year at Hogwarts have begun and with it are the new fifth year prefects, Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas for Gryffindor, Su Li and Anthony Goldstein for Ravenclaw, Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy for Slytherin and Hannah Abbot and Ernest McMillan for Huflepuff. There is also the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, a Madam Umbridge. Forgive me, but aren't there a Madame Umbridge serving as the Undersecretary to the Minister? Or am I completely in the wrong? We also had a transfer student get sorted into Ravenclaw, a fifth year named Soryan Ryuzaki Storm._

_The Hogwarts Express journey was for the most part enjoyable, I shared a compartment with Harry, Hermione, Luna Lovegood and Ronald. Ginerva had joined us at the start, but went to find her friends after a while, I'm guessing she could only stand to watch her brother trounce Harry at chess so many times before it got tiresome._

_Once Hermione returned from the prefects meeting, conversation turned towards our individual summers and it seems that for some it have been somewhat illuminating. Like, Hermione Granger wishes for me to convey to you her sincerest apology. She now knows how uncouth she had behaved and reassures me that while she still finds the topic fascinating, she is even more horrified by the injustice of it. It will no longer be spoken of, unless someone wishes to speak with her about it, and even then it would be in private._

_And Hermione is not the only one who have been enlightened this summer. And I'm afraid to say that the matter is of consequence, to such an extent I willingly took a vow to not reveal it to anyone unless given permission. I have been allowed to reveal it to you, I believe you are best suited to start taking the steps needed. A dormant alliance of ours have been awakened, Heir Hadrian have finally taken up his mantle. But not because of a sudden interest in managing his House, but because he had been made aware of his Lordship, by his mother of all people. I feel a great injustice have been made by the man who were to prepare Heir Hadrian. Luckily, for all of us I believe, he have been given help by his godfather, who swore to mother magic and the Divine on the first moons. The elder Houses needs to work together again, we cannot go on as we have._

_And I seem to have forgotten my astrology book, a much unfortunate event as I wanted to take a closer look at the Hunter constellation._

_In Faith and Magic_

Neville signed his name and worried his lip with his teeth. He was sure his Gran would understand what he was trying to say, but it had been harder than he'd thought to keep it vague enough. Now he just hoped nothing would happen to the letter before his Gran could get it. He carefully folded the parchment and sealed it shut, pressing his signet in the soft wax. As trickle of magic left his ring finger and settled into the seal, Neville offered a quick prayer to Mother Magic, asking for a quick and safe delivery. After a few more moments, he took a deep breath, carefully pocketed the letter before putting away his quill, ink and parchment and got off the bed, heading for the owlery.

 

 

 

* * *

 

AN; Umbrige's speech isn't written by me, I believe it's the speech from the movies.


	7. Chapter7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN; A new chapter for you lovelies, I hope you'll enjoy it.
> 
> Warnings; probably some swearing. And Ron being a bit of an idiot...
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies, I do not own Harry Potter nor make any money on this.
> 
> Enjoy!

VII

 

The first day of classes found Harry wishing the weekend was still on as he stared down at his timetable. History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defence Against the Dark Arts...

“They're trying to kill us.” Ron moaned as he too was looking at his timetable with something akin to horror.

“I thought you'd be pleased to have History of Magic first thing on a Monday.” Hermione said somewhat snidely. “More time to sleep, was it not?”

“Aww, c'on 'Mione.” Ron started and Harry quickly slid closer to Neville on his other side, his bushy haired friend was now glaring at the red head.

“At least we got History with the Ravenclaws!” He hurried to say, hoping to head off the explosion and not have the day starting with a row between his friends. Hermione shifted her focus from Ron and nodded to him with a smile.

“I'd rather have it with the Hufflepuffs.” Ron said sourly, glaring at the table under the blue and bronze banner.

“Honestly Ron!” Hermione's attention snapped back to the read head. “What is it with you lately? All you've done is complain and bitch!”

“Right! Class!” Harry jumped to his feet and almost fell backwards off the bench. “You guys coming?”

“Bitch?! I'm not bitching!” Ron snapped at Hermione. “What's wrong with wanting to have classes without know-it-alls and evil death eater spawn?”

“Let's go, Harry.” Neville tugged on his sleeve and Harry was more than happy to leave the two to their row, he knew it wouldn't be long before Ron tried to drag him into it. And Ron wouldn't be happy with him taking Hermione's side.

“Yeah, let's.” He nodded at Neville, the two of them hurrying out of the Great Hall before they were noticed.

 

Harry had hoped to sit next to Ran in History, but Terry Boot was sitting next to him and so Harry and Neville took the seats in front, Neville eyeing Ran's muggle notebook and pen with curiosity.

“Think we'll get a lecture on something else than a goblin rebellion?” Harry asked casually. “I mean, there can only be so many of them and we've had nothing but goblin rebellions for the last four years.”

“Not likely.” Terry Boot snorted. “Not been paying much attention have you Potter. Binns have been lecturing about the same rebellions since first year.”

“Huh?” That was news to Harry, but then again Boot was right, he rarely paid attention in History class, Binns droning voice usually put him in a stupor after the first five minutes.

“Hold on.” Ran butted in, a frown on his face. “What you mean he's been talking about the same thing for the last four years?”

“The first thing you learn as a first year in Ravenclaw is that you have to self study History once you start second year.” Boot explained. “And before the end of year exams, read up on your notes from first year. It's Binns that set the exams and so far it's been the same every year for all the years, except fifth and seventh.”

“That's why my History grade have been steadily gotten better!” Neville exclaimed softly, surprise clear on his face.

“Probably.” Boot chuckled.

“And no one have done anything about it?” Ran sounded shocked and Harry thought he looked a bit angry as well.

“Why would they?” Boot snorted. “It's an easy exam and if you've read up on the rest during the years it's not a problem when OWLS or NEWTS comes up.”

“It's a fucking joke!” Ran growled, shaking his head. “How can they defend taking so much in tuition and not provide the students with a competent teacher?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Boot shrugged just as the bell rang and Hermione and Ron walked into the room. Or more precisely, Hermione stomped into the room, looking thunderous and Ron stormed in after her, beet red in anger. They both took seats as far away from each other as they could, and Harry sighed. He could hope that it blew over in a few weeks as it usually did, but that meant he would have to put him self between them, and he had no interest in doing so. This was their mess, he would not get involved.

 

Harry ended up reading from his History book, he'd found that after reading ' Etiquette, Ballrooms and Conversation, the Handbook of Polite Society', he could ignore Binns and his hypnotically drone. He figured he should have been taking notes, but he hadn't been able to think that far, apparently his newfound ability to stay awake only stretched as far as to let him read. But it was an improvement and he had felt rather proud of him self as the class ended. His good mood didn't live long though, as on the way down to the dungeons and double Potions, Ron tried his best to drag Harry into the fight with Hermione. More than once did he have to stop him self from telling Ron to just shut up, but that would be involving him self and he wasn't going to do that. So instead he just pretended to listen and tried hard to keep a hold of the good mood, but it was slipping through his fingers faster than water the closer they got Snape's classroom and by the time they were able to take a seat, he grabbed Neville and sat down with him, ignoring Ron and ignoring Neville's surprised stuttering.

Silence fell the moment the door closed and Snape started on a lecture about the OWLS, their importance, their difficulty and his expectations on their grades. Out of the corner of an eye, Harry could see Neville getting paler and paler, and by the time Snape had set them a potion to brew, The Draught of Peace, Neville looked ready to faint.

The potion turned out to be a nightmare, Harry had never needed to multitask so much, even with Petunia's largest and grandest dinners. If this was OWLS standard potions he would hate to see what NEWTS looked like. Harry had thought at the beginning of the brewing that he'd be able to help Neville out a bit, but he hadn't been able to spare anyone a single thought as he'd scrambled around, trying to follow every step to the letter and in time.

“A light silvery mist should now be rising from your cauldrons.” Snape suddenly said and Harry gaped as he realised there were only ten minutes left of the class. What was rising from his cauldron was not a light silvery mist, more like dark grey fog, creeping over the edges and he swallowed, knowing Snape would take great pleasure of vanishing the wanna-be London smog. It was not how he had hoped the start of his fifth year would go, what whit his new desire to do better and all, but the difficulty of the potion had blind-sided him. He barely heard Snape's comments on the potion, disappointed with him self. Harry did managed to hear the assigned homework; twelve inches on the properties of Moonstone in potions, by Thursday.

“Come on, Harry.” Neville said softly, pulling him away from his now empty cauldron, Snape had vanished it. It wasn't fair, Neville's potion had been worse of than his, but Snape was never fair to anyone but the Slytherins.

 

Lunch turned out to be almost as bad as Potions had been, Hermione and Ron was not speaking to each other, Ron again tried to pull Harry into the middle and for some strange reason, Ginny had started to steal food off his plate. He was close to blowing his lid when Ran made eye contact with him, nodding his head towards the doors and Harry was more than happy to leave his lunch to find out what his friend wanted.

Ran led them outside and once they'd settled in one of the courtyards he spoke.

“Be careful with Umbridge.”

“Okay, she a banshee in disguise or something?” Harry couldn't help but ask, it would be just his luck if she was.

“Nope.” Ran shook his head, his long dark blue hair dancing in waves down his back. “But she prefers to treat students like they're five and don't want us to think for our selves.” Harry frowned, it didn't sound that bad.

“So...” He started, not sure what to say.

“It means,” Ran grimaced and raked a hand through his hair. “that she wants us defenceless.”

“What? But... It's Defence Against the Dark Arts!” Harry exclaimed, bewildered.

“And in her point of view there is nothing we need to defend our self against.” His friend sneered.

“Nothing? Is she mad? What about Voldemort?!” He shot up and glared at Ran. This was insane, nothing short of madness. He'd known that Fudge was a coward, refusing to believe that Voldemort had returned, but to find that their Defence professor didn't think there was anything they would need to defend them selves against.

“What about him?” Ran asked rather casually in Harry's opinion.

“He's back! He'll try to take over again!” He just about shouted at his friend. “Didn't you listen when I told you about the last war and what he wants?!”

“Harry, think!” Ran shot back. “No one else is worrying about that shit head. I'm talking about the fact that she thinks there is NOTHING we need to defend our selves against!” Harry whirled around to face Ran, eyes wide as his brain started to register what he'd heard.

“How...” His mouth was dry, the words sticking at the back of his throat.

“Have you even read the text book she set us?”

“No, what's that got to do with anything?” He frowned, there hadn't been any summer work for Defence Against the Dark Arts, so there hadn't been a need for him to read it, he had intended to do it, but with everything else there hadn't been time.

“The text is an introductory text for children that's being homeschooled, written by a passive aggressive pacifist in the nineteen thirties. It only contains theory about defence, such as how to recognise a situation and what is the best method of defence. And in every scenario set, the correct answer is; do nothing, you are not at fault, leave the matter to the authorities.” Ran was looking at him pointedly, but Harry couldn't figure out the point he was trying to make, he was still reeling over the fact that their professor wasn't going to teach them anything. In the end the blue haired teen huffed and rolled his eyes. “She wants you reliant on the Ministry and the Aurors, Harry! She's pushing sheep mentality on everyone in the school.”

“No...” Harry almost whimpered, he could see just how that was going to turn out. By the time Fudge and the ministry finally got around to admitting that Voldemort was back there would be no one left, Voldemort would steam-roll all over the country.

“She's dangerous, Harry. Don't take her baits.” Ran's warning was pointed and as Harry thought; easier said than done. He knew him self, at least he liked to think he did, and his explosive temper had a tendency to short out his brain.

“Great, and I have a double period with her at the end of the day.” He groaned, sliding down a stone pillar to sit at the base. Mondays was turning out to become a year long nightmare, Snape, Trelawney and Umbridge, if he hadn't suddenly been able to ignore Binns' drone he was sure that by Christmas he'd be tempted to jump off the Astronomy tower.

 

 

Divination class hadn't been as bad as Harry had feared. Trelawney didn't once predict his death and to him, that was a new one. However, trying to read the assigned chapter while listening to Ron hiss in his ear about everything wrong in his world was tiresome and annoying, up to the point that he wasn't able to finish the chapter before the bell rang.

And now he was sitting next to Hermione in the Defence class, watching Umbridge sit primly behind her desk as the rest of the class trickled in. Ran's warning were whispering at the back of his brain, _she's dangerous, don't take her baits_... and he had every intentions of heeding his friend's advice, as long as he was able to keep his head.

“Good afternoon, class.” Umbridge greeted once the bell rang for the start of class. There was a murmur of 'afternoons' and she tutted, the condescending smile on her lips widening. “No, no. That won't do. Let us try again shall we? Good afternoon, class.” This time there were more that replied with 'afternoons', but still nothing more than a half hearted effort. “I see.” Umbridge tutted again. “Now when I greet you at the start of the class all of you will reply with good morning or good afternoon Professor Umbridge and when I dismiss you from class you will all reply with thank you Professor Umbridge, have a nice day.” She smiled sternly in what she probably thought was benign, but Harry thought it only made her look constipated. “So, good afternoon, class.”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.” It was a lacklustre response, but Umbridge seemed more or less satisfied with it as she nodded and pointed her wand at the blackboard, the word OWLS appearing in a flowery scrip.

“O.W.L.S, owls! One of the most important years of your esteemed education, the OWLS exam will determine your careers and future. The Ministry of Magic takes every young witch and wizards education seriously, feel it is of utmost importance that they are guided into becoming skilled and productive members of our acclaimed society. Only by ensuring that the highest of qualities are accepted at every level will we achieve fulfilment and cooperation free of misconceptions.” Umbridge looked over the class, her eyes resting here and there on some of the students. “You must not allow your self to loose sight of the common goal, to become a source of discord for our hard working community.” She was now looking straight at Harry, her stare a direct challenge, daring him to speak up. He was beginning to understand what Ran had tried to tell him and he hoped he would be able to keep his temper in check. “Now, wands away children, and please open your books on page one. We will be reading the first chapter. There will be no need to talk.” And with that the giant toad sat down behind her desk, hands folded in her lap as she smiled condescendingly at them. Harry had to remind him self of his promise to him self of doing better in school, of how he wanted to prove to him self that he could do better if he just tried hard enough. But as he opened the book and started to read, he realised it was going be an uphill battle.

It took him a few minutes of trying to get through the first paragraph before he realised that Hermione hadn't even opened her book and were sitting with her hand in the air. He gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head slightly and kept her hand in the air, eyes trained on their Professor who seemed adamant in ignoring the girl. However, once the entire class had gone from trying to read, to watching Hermione, she relented and turned to his best friend, a simpering smile on her lips.

“Yes, dear? Do you have any question about the material in the book?” And it was no doubt that she thought Hermione to be simple for it.

“No, Professor.” Hermione replied curtly. “I have questions about your course aims.”

“They are quite clear, my dear. Do try to keep up.” Umbridge almost tittered as she turned to walk back to her desk.

“But there isn't anything in the course aims about casting spells.” His friend pushed on, and Harry almost held his breath as the short woman turned around again.

“Two points from Gryffindor, for speaking out of turn. I did not see your hand, nor had I given you permission to speak.” The reprimand was of the kind one gave a kindergartener, mild but sharp and Harry thought that the loss of points so early would make Hermione keep her head down. But she just put her hand in the air again, stubborn determination shining in her brown eyes. After that it became a battle of wills, Umbridge ignoring the hand and Hermione refusing to put it down. No one was reading any more, or pretended to read, they were all watching the silent battle. That was until Neville put up his own hand. When Umbridge seemed to want to ignore him too, Parvati put up hers, then Tracy Davies from Slytherin followed. Harry watched as Umbridge walked from student to student, asking what they wanted in hushed tones and getting the same questions from each and everyone of them.

“Those of you who have questions about our quite simple and reasonable course aims may come see me after class.” She declared after having returned to the front of the classroom, irritation a clear undertone in her voice. “Now return to your reading, children.”

It was clear to Harry that he wasn't the only one resenting being called a child, but he kept his head down and tried his best to focus on the words on the page in front of him. Not really that hard to do, the size of the letters as large as he could remember they used to be in first grade when they started to learn how to read, but he was having difficulties with what he was reading. Ran had been right, the author was an ass and how the hell could Dumbledore justify a teacher that had set a text book like this? He was going to write to Sirius about it, maybe he knew a way that could save them from collectively failing their Defence OWLS. In fact, he was going to ask everyone to write their parents about it, maybe the adults who paid good monies for their children's education could put some pressure on the board. Harry had never really bothered to put stock in adults helping him, no one ever had and that included the teachers at Hogwarts, but he would give it a try, and if that didn't help he would think of something else. Because this was just wrong. He spent the rest of the class pretending to read but silently plotting the downfall of their professor.

 

§§§

 

Hermione was fuming, she was so mad she was having trouble thinking straight. There had to be a law that said their teachers had to be competent somewhere! So she had gone straight to the library after Defence and scoured the shelves for information. She'd had fairly little luck so far, there didn't seem to be anything on law in the library and she was having trouble finding the whole of Hogwarts charter. Even the books she's used in the Buckbeak case were gone and after having checked with Madam Pince that they weren't loaned out, she could only conclude that they had been removed. It was starting to smell like censorship, something that she'd never thought she'd experience living in Britain. And that only fuelled her anger, it was the second time in few months that she suspected something of the kind.

She let out a frustrated growl as she dumped down in a seat, only to realise there were someone sitting at the table already. Someone who looked at her with a raised brow, a ballpoint pen stuck in his messy hair bun to keep it together and a slightly surprised look in his purple eyes. Hermione blushed, she hadn't meant to interrupt his studying.

“You look frustrated?” He asked carefully, keeping his voice low enough for a conversation in the library.

“Frustrated, angry, pissed off, vexed, irate, mad, cross, take your pick.” She huffed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you.” But he just shrugged at her and gave her a questioning look. “I'm just... I wanted to find out what the law and Hogwarts charter said about the competence required of our teachers.”

“And I take it you haven't had any luck?” His question made her snort before she shook her head.

“No, nothing! I used to think that this library were the best one ever, but I would have had better luck at my local library back home. And that's a muggle one!” It grated how lacking she'd realised that the school library was, it was great for most things concerning school work, but if you wanted to do research on anything else... She was even willing to bet that the restricted section didn't hold anything not related to subjects taught.

“Why don't you contact the board of governors and ask for the charter? And I'd think that a law firm could help you with finding the laws.” His words struck her dumb and she blinked, wondering why she hadn't thought of that before. She was supposed to be the clever one, the Ravenclaw in disguise, and with her promise to her self to start thinking out of the box...

“Damn, why didn't I think of that?” She muttered, looking down on her hands.

“No one can be omniscient.” He answered her absently and she grimaced, hadn't that been what she had tried to set her self up as? Even if it hadn't been intentional, she had always needed to let everyone know that she knew the answer to anything asked, to the point of steam-rolling over anyone else trying to answer. It was a flaw she was beginning to realise that she needed to fix, it was true, she couldn't know everything, didn't know everything and if she kept thinking that she did...

“Thank you, you know for the ideas.” She murmured as she got up from the chair, wondering how she was going to formulate a letter to the board of governors. Perhaps Harry knew something about it, what with his lessons in politics and all.

“No worries, and let me know what you find?”

“Sure.”

 

§§§

 

“It's a disgrace.” Daphne sneered daintily, a feat few could pull off. It was an art, Theo believed, to keep looking like a perfect lady and yet manage to convey a facial expression that best suited a man.

“We'll do what we've always have done, self study.” Tracy shrugged, the girl had much more leeway in acting as she wanted, being halfblood had it's perks even if it was considered to be of lower breed. Theo thought it was bullshit, but then again it was politics and politics were hard to change. Not that that was going to stop him once the right players came into play or if the climate changed.

“Even Malfoy is tempted to write his father and demand something is done.” Daphne said as she shifted a bit on the love-seat, making room for Blaise to sit.

“We need somewhere to practise though.” He mused. “Think we can use the old room we used in first and second year?”

“If none of the others have discovered it, sure.” Tracy nodded, flicking her wand and scowling as nothing happened to the quill she was aiming at.

“Don't flick your wand so sharply.” Theo advised, he was the one amongst them with a transfiguration talent, Tracy was good with charms, Daphne was vicious with hexes and curses and Blaise had a mind for potions and arithmacy.

“We should go check it out.” Blaise looked at him and he nodded at the Italian.

“Just make sure it's free of dust.” Daphne sighed, she was mildly allergic to dust and thought sneezing was highly undignified.

 

 

The place looked just like he remembered it, even if he hadn't been there in two years. The old disused office had been their study room, they had spent a lot of time in it and he smiled as he spotted the dusty box of needles and buttons that still stood on one of the shelves. At first it had been just a place to safely and secretly study for Defence, none of them had felt that Quirrel was a good teacher, but as they spent time there and got to know each other, it slowly became the place where they did homework and practised their spellcasting. In third year, with the arrival of a competent Defence teacher, it went out of use, there were other venues they could do the other work at and it fell out of use.

“I just realised that I've sort of missed working in here.” He said quietly as he and Blaise walked slowly around the room. It wasn't big, but it seemed a bit smaller than he remembered it.

“Remember this?” Blaise asked as he held up a sheet of parchment that he'd picked up from the floor by one of the walls. Theo chuckled as he saw what was written on it, ' _Don't use Rictusempra on Blaise!_ ', very few people knew that the Italian teen was extremely ticklish and the tickling charm had caused him to pass out.

“I remember Daphne's face when you fainted.” He smirked, easily sidestepping the stinging hex his friend lazily sent his way. “But honestly, I think I want us to put up some wards on this place, the woman gives me the creeps and something tells me we need this to be quiet.” Blaise gave him a long look before he nodded.

“We should be able to come up with something that'll work.” His friend said as he looked at the door frame critically. “Maybe anchor it in the wood, it would take too long to etch runes into the stone here.”

“Guess we'll be hitting the books then.” Theo sighed, he didn't really mind the extra study and they did need a safe place to practise in, but creating a new ward scheme... it was going to give them headaches all around.

 

§§§

 

It was early Saturday morning and Harry hadn't slept well, the last few days had been not bad but not good either. Work was piling up around him, both classwork and heir responsibilities, then there was the budding plan he had for getting rid of Umbridge and surrounding it all were the sour mood of Ron, Seamus' suspicious looks and Angelina's expectations of winning the quidditch cup by having them train four times a week. He honestly didn't know how he was supposed to find the time for it all and he felt like he was slowly getting crushed by the pressure, hence why he hadn't slept well. Yesterday he'd gotten an owl from Gringotts reminding him that they still hadn't gotten any word from him regarding his accounts and if something were to be implemented before the tax revision it needed to be in by the end of the month. Just the thought that he had to pay taxes at fifteen... it was almost surreal and on the point of tipping him over into hysteria.

Harry muffled a groan in his duvet, his head was so full of things he needed to do it made it impossible for him to know where to even start. Maybe taking up his mantle as head of the family hadn't been the best idea, at least this year, but he didn't think it would be any easier if he'd waited a year, not that he'd really had a choice about it. And he refused to prove Dumbledore right by putting it off any more. So he would have to buckle down and start getting organised, he didn't have time to worry about Ron or Seamus, their problems were theirs, not his. And he would have to take Neville up on the offer of help and maybe let Hermione take over the plan of getting rid of Umbridge. But first he was going to see just how much he had on his plate, starting with writing it all down.

 

Half an hour later and Harry was looking at the notebook page he'd just finished writing down his 'to-do' list. It wasn't all that long, but he knew nothing on the list was done quickly.

“Harry?” He looked up to see Neville sitting up in his bed, looking at him sleepily. The teen still used monogrammed, striped pyjamas and Harry couldn't help it, he found it rather silly, no one used pj's like that unless one were old and retired. But he would never laugh out loud or let Neville know, as that would just be insensitive and somewhat cruel.

“Yeah.” He replied, keeping his voice soft as not to wake the rest of the dorm.

“What are you doing awake at...” The shy teen waved his wand and frowned. “seven in the morning?”

“Oh, right.” Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “I woke early and just couldn't go back to sleep.” Neville gave him a careful look before he sighed, got out of his bed and settled down at the foot of Harry's.

“Really Harry?” He asked gently, warm brown eyes searching his face. Harry's stomach tightened as he noticed the shape of Neville's upper lip, the smattering of nearly invisible freckles across the bridge of his nose and the slight stubble on his jaw. He didn't understand why he was suddenly noticing things like that or why every time he did his body reacted in such an embarrassing manner. Like the other day in charms when he'd been unable to take his eyes of Dean's hand for all of ten minutes while they where going through the theory of the summoning charm. The way Dean held his quill, the delicate feather stem had seemed even more fragile as his large hand and strong fingers curled around it. The only reason he'd been able to look away had been that he'd realised how tight his trousers had suddenly become and then he'd been extremely happy that they were sitting down so no one could see what had happened.

“Eh...” He swallowed and looked down, hoping to hide the blush that he could feel spreading over his face.

“Nightmare?” Again Neville's voice was soft and gentle and Harry realised that his friend had mistaken his blush for something else. It almost made him blow out a huge breath in relief, he could handle Neville thinking he was embarrassed over a nightmare and not blushing because he was embarrassed over his own bodily reactions.

“Ah, no. Actually I was... _am_ , feeling a bit overwhelmed.” Harry sighed, running a hand through his rats nest of hair. He nudged his list, silently giving the other teen permission to look at it. Neville gave him a quick look before turning it the right way for him to read.

“You know getting rid of Umbridge isn't your responsibility.” Neville muttered as he read through the list. Harry huffed softly at hearing that, after surviving four defence professors that had tried to kill him, even if he didn't blame Remus for what happened in that year, it almost felt personal.

“Well, Dumbledore hired her, so I don't see him, or the rest of the teachers doing anything to make it happen.” He replied softly, shrugging his shoulders. “But I was sort of thinking that I'd ask Hermione to help me or something. Even if it is our OWLS year, I think she would make time for it, ya know, since she would want to do her best on the exams...”

“It's only been a week, Harry.” Neville shook his head slightly. “Most of the students are still struggling with waking up in the mornings.” His friend glanced over his shoulder to Ron's bed and Harry couldn't help the small smirk that pulled at his own lips. “Give it a bit more time before starting a crusade, besides, I'm pretty sure that Hermione have started on her own in that regard. So you see, this isn't something you need to prioritise, for once, let the others handle it.” Neville gave him a soft grin, but Harry could see the seriousness in his brown eyes.

“I'll try.” He sighed. “If Hermione is taking the lead....”

“If you want I'll help you go through your business portfolio, it's the most pressing matter on your list at the moment....”

 

§§§

 

Blaise woke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in his bed. He was drenched in sweat, his pulse racing, the blood in his veins on fire and while it didn't hurt, it was far from pleasant. Images from his dream flitted through his mind and he clenched his teeth against the cry of fury and frustration that bubbled in his throat, his nostrils flaring as he drew ragged and harsh breaths through his nose. He had known that the dreams would start, he had known they were going to be difficult to handle, but he had never imagined just how real they would seem, nor how hard it would hit him. His birthday was months away and this was the first of them... They would only get worse, or so his uncle had told him. Blaise clenched his fists in the sheets, his knuckles turning white, as he tried to calm down, to breathe through the insane need to see the earth scorched black just because his mate, the being of cold, white light, had all through his dream been just out of reach. A fresh new wave of frustration crashed through him, his body temperature spiking as he bent forwards. He would not give in, he wouldn't let it get to him. Just because his mate had been out of reach in his dream, it didn't mean that his mate would be lost to him, the dreams were there to prepare him, to guide him... Well, fuck that! If this was how it was going to be he'd go insane before he even hit sixteen.

Blaise forced him self to take long deep breaths, feeling how it slowly settled the fire in his blood, calmed it down to a gentle flame instead of the wildfire it had felt like before. But at the same time the need for fresh air had gotten stronger, the need to be anywhere else than the dorm he shared with Theo, or even in the dungeons.

 

He had taken the quickest shower ever, just washing off the dried sweat before getting dressed and vacating the dungeons, he had more or less ran up the stairs and out of the front doors. The cool, fresh air washed over him and he stopped at the top of the front steps, just breathing deeply and feeling his body temperature dropping back down to normal. Blaise could still feel the raw need for his mate, but it no longer consumed him, no longer made him want to destroy the world just to make his mate notice him.

“Oh, shit! Sorry Zabini!” Blaise blinked, a small frown creasing his brow as he turned to see Storm stepping away from him. The Ravenclaw was dressed in sweatpants that were cut off just below the knees, a washed out tee-shirt and trainers, a large black bag slung over his shoulder. “You know, if I had any lesser reflexes we'd both have taken a hard tumble down the stairs.” He eyed the distance from the doors to where he was standing and then looked back at the blue haired boy, not really impressed.

“And if you'd been paying attention to where you were going...” He let it trail off, letting the new fifth year catch on.

“Yeah well, it's not every day you see a house elf wearing orange socks and a green knitted golf jersey polishing the door handles to the great hall.” Storm shrugged, stepping up to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with him. Orange socks and a green.... Blaise mentally back tracked, searching for any indicators of the other boy lying, but he couldn't find any and yet he couldn't really believe he was telling the truth. Hogwarts elves were better dressed than what had been indicated.

“So why are you up so early on a Sunday?” He asked, trying to get a more normalised conversation going, not really that easy since he didn't know the boy.

“Could ask you the same.” Was the reply he got, delivered with a crocked smirk. “But I'm always up and out at six in the morning.”

“Doing what?” Blaise couldn't keep the incredulous tone out of his question, there was nothing to do a six in the morning but sleep. Yes, he usually got up at half past seven and that was because he hated to rush in getting dressed in the mornings. And he enjoyed a nice long breakfast.

“Keeping fit and healthy. My dad's a healer ya know.” Storm chuckled as he stepped down a few steps. “Besides, the better trained your body is, the easier your magic flows.” That was news to Blaise, but then again, he had never had trouble with his magic, maybe it was something those who did have a problem needed to do?

“If so, perhaps Longbottom could benefit?” He suggested, even if he was sceptical.

“Everyone could as you say benefit.” Storm shrugged his shoulders. “But most people can't be bothered to put in the work, why spend two hours everyday sweating, panting and in pain just to make it a little easier to pull off a spell? Instead they sit on their fat asses dreaming of the old days where magic was more powerful and potent, forgetting that in those days magic wasn't used to darn socks and do the dishes. The magic users of old were highly trained specialists, both body and mind.” The Ravenclaw sounded annoyed and Blaise was inclined to agree with him. “But anyway, I'm gonna go burn off some steam and put in my three hours of sweat and muscle burn, it'll keep me from going insane out of boredom.”

Blaise watched as the short fifth year jogged down to the shore of the Black Lake, his mind on the fact of the past.

 


End file.
